Holding the Snow
by Tarshearma
Summary: In search of a way to power Atlantis, the team stumbles across a young woman in stasis. Tests show she is not human, her nature childish and animalistic. As the team seeks to discover her origins, time is slowly running out as the sun melts the snow.
1. Snow White

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. No profit has been made from writing this. (Unless you count an excuse to drink lots of coke profit)_

**Spoilers:** _Spoilers for any episodes prior to Sunday._

**Rating:** _T for language, violence, some adult themes_

**Pairing:** _None to start with; but one could happen_

**Summary:** _In search of a way to power Atlantis, the team stumbles across a young woman in stasis. Tests show she is not human, her nature childish and animalistic. As the team seeks to discover her origins, time is slowly running out as the sun melts the snow._

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**Chapter One**

_Snow White Queen_

"McKay? Are you done yet?" Lt. Colonel John Sheppard said, walking up behind the most obnoxious, and maybe smartest, member of his team. The team had been on the planet dubbed MR4-95C for over six hours and Sheppard was bored. They were to have returned home to Atlantis four hours ago, but when Rodney found some strange energy readings, he had practically begged Weir for more time. There was no sign of Wraith or other hostile activity, so Weir gave Rodney the okay. An hour later, Rodney had led them to a cave ("Why is it always a cave?" John had asked aloud, "A dark, ominous looking cave? I am really starting to hate caves." Rodney had just glared at him).

Inside the cave was what appeared to be some sort of lab, origin unknown, though Rodney said it looked like an odd cross between Genii and Ancient, but defiantly not Wraith. At the mention it appeared it could be a cross, everyone save Rodney stiffened, remembering the last time the stumbled across a lab tampered with by the Genii. Rodney assured them this one was safe, his curiosity and excitement overpowering his own memory of Sheppard shooting him. John had left Rodney with Teyla while he and Ronon went to walk around and check in with Elizabeth after two hours.

Now they were due for another check-in, and John was hoping this time they could go home. He was tired and hungry and very bored. Rodney, however, was currently crouched down, digging through his backpack, not paying any attention to the world around him and Teyla was nowhere in sight.

"Hey! Rodney!" John said, poking the scientist in his back with a boot. Rodney swung back at John with an arm, and then stood up; he appeared rather focused and annoyed his train of thought was being interrupted.

"What do you want?" Rodney snapped.

John took a breath, keeping his patience, "It's time to check in. I wanted to know if you were done."

"No, I'm not done. I'm far from done. If you want to go home, then go home, otherwise, stop wasting my time; I am very, very busy."

He shoved past John, rushing down a corridor and rounding the corner. Sheppard rolled his eyes heavenward and then followed his teammate, looking with mild curiosity at the lit panels along the stone wall. He found Rodney bent over, poking inside a consol of sorts, Teyla beside him, one hand on her weapon and the other on a door, watching Rodney work. Sheppard stopped and coughed to get her attention. Teyla tuned and smiled. "Colonel Sheppard. We are almost done," she said, anticipating John's question correctly.

"Who's 'we'?" Rodney muttered, only to jump back a moment later, waving his right hand from being electrocuted by the panel. The panel sparked a few times, making a buzzing sound, then was silent. Mckay swore and held his hand. "Ow…."

"Well, now that McKay's been injured, we should go back."

"Oh har de har," Rodney said, going back to the panel and went right back to poking around. Sheppard knew the scientist was worried about what might be wrong with his hand and was forcing himself to ignore it just to spite the Colonel. Rodney could be worse than a three-year-old.

"Look, McKay. This place isn't going anywhere. What do you say we just come back tomorrow?"

Rodney didn't say anything, so Teyla took it upon herself to explain. "Rodney discovered some old notes while examining one of the consoles. They spoke of the creation of great power. As we examined the cave further, we came across some strange energy readings emanating from behind this door. Doctor McKay is convinced behind this door is the power mentioned in the notes."

"Oh," John started, but before he could say more, Rodney let out an 'A ha!' as the door hummed and jerked upward. He turned and smiled with smug, arrogant pride at his two teammates. Sheppard ignored Rodney and lifted his weapon, walking forward to peer into the dark room, an ominous feeling settling in his gut as he left the lit corridor for an unknown, dark room. Before he crossed the threshold, he looked at Rodney. "There are no life signs, right?"

"We are the only ones here, Colonel."

"Okay…" Sheppard said, and then walked in. Teyla followed behind, Rodney trailing behind.

Noting how tense his teammates were, Rodney took it upon himself to quell their fears. "I assure you, there is nothing in here. This place has been abandoned for decades." A strong hand suddenly descended on his shoulder and he yelped in fear, yelling as he covered his head with his arms, "Don't kill me!"

Teyla and John whirled, training their weapons on Ronon, who looked at Rodney and smirked, "You're not worth killing."

"Oh…thank you…hold on. What do you mean I'm not worth it?!" Rodney spun to glare at the large man, lost his balance, and stumbled into a control panel on the wall. There was a humming and suddenly, the whole room lit up, revealing its contents.

The team looked around in place, mixed expressions on their face.

The room was about half the size of the Gate room in Atlantis, only in the shape of a square with rounded points and an 8 foot ceiling. The first wall, where the door they had entered through was, was covered by cages of varying sizes shoved against the wall, some stacked on top of each other, some cages so large they reached from floor to ceiling. On the left wall were some more cages, then what looked to be tables with varying medical tools upon them, covered in dust and rock. On the next wall was the start of computers, consoles and chairs covered in dust and rock as well. The next wall was not a wall at all, but looked like glass with a door in it. John moved forward a bit and looked through the glass, frowning as he could see a large pit, 12 feet deep minimum and about ten feet in diameter. There were chains, spikes, and who knew what else inside. It looked like a torture pit.

To the right of the glass door was a sort of observation consol, half-moon shaped. Part of the consol had been crushed in by a large rock. Rodney looked around the rock, frowning at the damage. He doubted it would be repairable, unless what had been crushed wasn't important or he could reroute functions….

In the middle of the room were 12 pods arranged in a star-like pattern. They were also covered in rock and dirt and dust. Teyla moved closer to them as Ronon joined Shepard to look through the glass into the pit and Rodney got down on his hands and knees to look under the broken consol. Carefully, Teyla started to swipe the dust from the pod tops. The lower half of the pods were made of dark metal while the top of some sort of hard glass. She could see nothing inside. She went to the next one and let out a gasp. Her teammates turned and she looked at them.

"There is a dead man inside."

Rodney jogged over and looked inside, paled at the sight of the withered corpse, then looked at the pod itself. After a moment, he looked at the control panel for the pod and shook his head. "It's some sort of stasis chamber. Broken."

John swiped the dust from another one of the pods, seeing a decayed body of a young woman, "So's this one. Broken, I mean."

They started to dust off the other pods, finding seven dead bodies of either decayed, withered, or skeleton corpses. Ronon swiped the dust and rock from the last pod, then paused. He bent down and peered inside before looking up. "There's a girl in here. She looks alive."

"Or she just died later than all the others," Rodney said, coming over, looked at the control panel of the stasis chamber, then up at the others. "This one still works." Teyla and John came over, peering into the pod. John leaned over and Rodney suddenly stood up, almost whacking his friend in the nose.

Jerking back, Sheppard asked, "Jeez, McKay, watch it. I'm attached to my nose. What's the problem?"

"This stasis chamber isn't going to work much longer."

"How much longer does it have?"

Rodney shrugged, waving his hands. Honestly, did they think he knew everything? "I don't know. I don't know how this thing regulates power. All I know is that this, right here, means it's not going to last much longer. It could be an hour; it would be a week, or a month."

Sheppard looked at his watch, then back at his team. "Okay. Let's check in, let Weir know what we've found, and then come to a decision. Last time we opened a pod thing, Elizabeth and I tried to kill each other. I do not want to repeat that experience. Let's go."

The others nodded and started to leave the room, though Rodney did so a bit reluctantly. Fifteen minutes later, they were at the Gate, talking with Doctor Weir.

"Can it be moved?" she asked over the radio.

"No," Rodney answered. "It's fast to the floor. Plus, it we did move it, we would be disconnecting it from its power source, which would probably end up killing the person inside, thus making moving the whole operation pointless."

"And what about this source of power you mentioned earlier?"

"Rodney thinks the girl inside can tell us," John said.

Rodney rolled his eyes, "Well of course she can tell us. Obviously she was there; it only stands to reason she can help me make sense of everything I found. It's all very cryptic, actually. Rather fascinating. It reminds me of how Da Vinci wrote all of his no-"

"Thank you, Rodney," Elizabeth interrupted. Rodney looked a bit annoyed, but kept quiet as Weir continued. "I'm going to send Carson through with a team. Once he's there, you can bring Jane Doe out of stasis. If we can keep her from meeting the same end as her friends, I'm all for it."

"_And_ we can get some important information," Rodney added.

"Yes, Rodney," Weir said. "I'll see you when you all get back. Weir out."

The wormhole disappeared. About twenty minutes later, it came back to life as Carson stepped through with his medical kit, two assistants, a stretcher, and two marines. John nodded to the doctor, "Hey Doc."

Beckett nodded, "Aye, hello. Lead on, Colonel."

Sheppard led the way back to the cave, half listening as Rodney rattled off what he had seen and suspected as regarded the girl in the stasis pod to Beckett, who listened intently, asking questions when he could get a word in, until Rodney started to go off on another vein and could not be prodded to get back on track.

When they reached the room, still lit, Carson paused, looking around grimly. His expression ultimately led to disgust, especially when he saw the pit. The cages, surgical tools, the chains…it all made his stomach twist. This place, whatever it had been, had not been a good place. It couldn't be.

Beckett and his assistants set up near the stasis chamber. Rodney went to the other side, with the control panel. Teyla and John stood near Rodney, while Ronon and one of the two marines stood near Beckett, the second marine guarding the door. Some bad things had come out of stasis chambers; it was better to not take too many chances. Carson made sure everything was ready before he nodded to Rodney.

After a couple minutes, McKay looked up, "Okay, here we go." He pressed a couple buttons and inside the chamber glowed blue, then the glow faded and the thick, glass-like cover slid down over the metal bottom half. John raised his weapon and everyone else followed suit. The top of the chamber stopped moving and they waited for a response from its occupant, but there was no movement from the girl.

Carson placed his fingers on her neck, fearing, from her appearance, she may already be dead. He sighed with relief, feeling a steady and strong pulse. The girl's skin was pale, almost white, her veins showing clearly though her skin. She was thin, also, her bones clearly defined through her flesh, and Carson frowned at the clear lack of proper fat and muscle. Her fingers were long, as were her nails, looking a lot like claws. Her face was angular, elflike, and Sheppard couldn't help but notice how her ears were small and pointed. Her hair was stark white, waist length. Even her eyebrows and lashes were white. The only show of color on her, save her veins, was the thin brown jumpsuit she wore.

Beckett looked the girl over, his lips pressed in a thin line at how poor her physical state appeared. Perhaps it was a result of stasis; he doubted there existed a race which was naturally sickly looking. The doctor checked her heart beat, and as he did so, he noticed something on her neck. Taking his stethoscope from his ears and hooking it around his neck, he brushed her hair aside carefully. It looked to be a tattoo reading 956-3271. His eyes narrowed. He looked up at Sheppard, "She seems to be fine from what I can tell, out cold, but we need to get her back to Atlantis."

"Is it safe to move her?"

"Aye," Carson said, nodding. Sheppard nodded and motioned for everyone to keep their weapons ready as he grabbed Rodney and made the other man get away from the chamber. Carefully, Carson and his assistants got the girl onto the stretcher. She made no sound or movement. Once she was down, the doctor stood and looked at Ronon, holding out his hand, "Your coat, son."

"What for?" Ronon asked as he shed his leather coat and passed it to the doctor.

"Her skin's cold as ice. It'll help warm her up until she can be taken care of properly." He lay the coat down on the girl, then removed his own and laid it on top. He then motioned for his assistants to lift the stretcher as he gathered up his supplies. John led the way back with one of the marines, Ronon and the other marine bringing up the rear. Rodeny walked next to Teyla, who kept looking at Doctor Beckett. The doctor walked next to the stretcher, looking down at the girl on it, putting his hand on her head every so often, and then shaking his head. He couldn't get the image of the room and her tattoo out of his mind.

They had no incidences on their way to the gate. Rodney activated the wormhole and sent through his IDC and they all stepped through the gate. They trooped through and Weir came down to meet them as the gate shut off and Beckett started to guide his assistants with the stretcher down to the infirmary.

"This is her?" Weir asked, looking down at the pale girl with white hair.

"Aye," Beckett said, "but could ye' not come to the Infirmary later, Elizabeth? This girl needs immediate medical attention."

"Oh, right. Forgive me Carson. I let my curiosity get the better of me."

"Aye," he said and led his assistants to the Infirmary, the two marines following behind after a nod and motion from Sheppard.

Atlantis' flag team stayed where they were as Weir addressed them, "We'll debrief in half an hour."

"Actually, couldn't we-" Rodney started.

"A half hour sounds fine," Sheppard interrupted. Rodney glared at him.

"Good. Meet me in my office then." She left, forcing herself to her office instead of going right down to the Infirmary. The girl had looked so strange, so fragile, and practically dead. Carson looked agitated and the tone in his voice had indicated he had things he needed to do before he would deal with anyone coming to look or ask questions about their new visitor.

"Well, you heard her, folks. I suggest everyone change, eat," he looked pointedly at Rodney, "and then we'll meet back here. Okie dokie?"

Ronon looked in the direction Beckett and the others had gone. "I want my coat back," he said, holstering his gun on his hip before he stalked off towards the cafeteria.

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A half hour later, they were in Weir's office, recounting the mission. Well, Rodney was the one who did most of the talking, Teyla offering her own input now and then, John answering when he could, and Ronon making grunts where appropriate. Twenty minutes into it, they all fell silent as a voice sounded over Atlantis, sounding panicked.

"Security team to the Infirmary!"

They all moved as one, standing and going for the door, John and Ronon in front. The two men reached the Infirmary after the security team, lead by Maj. Lorne. Security had their weapons trained on a corner of the Infirmary. The Infirmary was a mess. Things lay broken on the floor, the floor slick with various liquids. A few beds were overturned and tables lay on their sides.

Carson stood between the security team and their raised guns and aforementioned corner, his hand raised, yelling, "Don't shoot! For God's sake, put those away. Ye'll just frighten 'er even more!"

Weir took in a breath when she saw the doctor. There were four gouges on the doctor's right check, bleeding freely, as if an animal had clawed him. There was also blood on his coat, mostly his sleeve, for he'd wiped at his wound with his arm. The doctor looked back at the corner and Weir's eyes followed, going wide at the sight.

The once immobile girl was now half squatting against the wall corner, her body bent forward, ready to attack. Her long white hair hung before her face, obscuring her expression. One of her long nailed hands gripped the wall while the other was clamped around her right side, blood staining the hospital gown she wore and her hand. Her thin legs swayed, jerking between tensing and relaxing. She growled and guns were raised higher as some of the men took a step forward. The girl's head turned and the hair parted a bit from her face, showing her eyes, wide with fright, the irises red as blood.

Carson took a step forward toward the girl, who shrank back and growled again.

"Doctor! Get back, please! She's dangerous." Major Lorne shouted.

Beckett didn't look back as he snapped, "Don't tell me how to do my bloody job, Major."

"Carson!" Weir said firmly. "Please."

"Why? So more of these military idiots can shoot 'er again?" He turned and locked eyes with Weir and shook his head, "I don't think so. Just leave, I can handle it. It was all fine until these idiots with their guns...!"

"So says the man bleeding profusely from his face," McKay said from a safe place behind Ronon.

"Shut up, Rodney," Carson spat back.

"Carson," John said, "Just move out of the way. Ronon can stun her."

Carson ignored Sheppard, inching closer again, and the girl growled once more, shifting to the right a bit. Beckett smiled and held out his hand, trying not to let his own personal fear show in his body language or sound in his voice. "It's okay, lass. No one here will hurt ye', I promise. It's alright…I promise ye', love."

The girl growled and her head swung from side to side, then back to the man inching toward her. She swallowed and stated to move away cautiously, only to hiss in pain and grip her side more firmly, which only served to make more blood ooze out. She looked back up, the hair parting, her face showing pain and fear and something else Beckett quickly recognized as pleading and desperation. Carson inched still closer, his hand still outstretched.

"Come on, lass. I know it hurts. I can make it better. You're safe 'ere."

The girl's red eyes looked away from Carson to all the men holding guns, to all the people in general and she whimpered. Beckett realized how stupid he sounded, assuring her of her safety when there were over ten men ready to shoot her. The pale girl suddenly snarled and swiped at the doctor, just missing his hand. Someone fired a round into the wall above the girl's head, narrowly missing both doctor and patient, and she shrieked, ducking down and running deeper into the Infirmary. Carson swore.

"Simmons, Marshal, let's go," Lorne started, but Sheppard interrupted him.

"Stand down!" He looked over at Ronon and nodded once. The big man grunted and pulled his energy gun from its holster and took off after the girl.

Carson reached out, trying to stop the big man, but failed. Swearing again, he yelled, "That bloody well be on stun!"

With the danger of the girl gone, a nurse came forward to help Carson with the wound on his face, but he waved her off, grabbing a thing of gauze from her hands and wiping at his face. He was very angry. Glaring at Lorne, he barked, "Get out of my infirmary!"

Lorne looked at Sheppard, who nodded. Lorne and the others backed out, after John assured Lorne Ronon would get the girl. Sure enough, less than a minute later, Ronon was back with the white haired girl in his arms. The former runner held her gently, her head resting against his shoulder, looking very peaceful in sleep. In Ronon's arms, she seemed to glow, her absence of color being made even more pronounced against Ronon's dark skin.

Beckett guided Ronon to a bed and had him lay the girl down. He then looked up at Weir and the Atlantis flag team. "Well, get the hell out of here! I got work to do."

Weir motioned for the others to leave, "Carson-"

"Look, I'll be up to tell ye' what bloody happened, just leave, Elizabeth." He looked at her and added, "Please. And no more bloody men with guns!"

Weir left Carson, telling Sheppard to have two guards posted out of sight of the infirmary, but close enough to arrive if something else were to happen. Beckett looked over his shoulder, knowing there were military men outside his infirmary somewhere. He grunted, as long as they didn't come into his space, he wouldn't kill them. Carson called a couple nurses and another doctor. His face was bleeding; he couldn't help the girl until his injury was taken care of. As the others came, he issued instructions, and then looked down at the girl, placing his hand on her cold forehead before he went to let another nurse care for his wound.

"I'm sorry, lass."

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"She's not dangerous, Elizabeth," Beckett said, standing in front of Weir's desk, pleading with her. The scratches on his face had been taken care of, a gauze pad taped to the side of his face for the time being. "It was those bloody marines. She was fine until she saw them. They spooked her."

"She attacked you, Carson."

"That was after. When she woke up, she just lay there, looking around. Then that man, Lincoln, came over and she saw his gun. He just spooked her, waving it like he did. I suspect she thought she was in danger; it was just an act of self defense. I just got in the way. If he hadn't come over and just minded his own bloody business, everything would have been fine."

Weir shook her head, "She is still a danger."

"She won't be if there's no one with guns around 'er."

Weir sighed and Sheppard looked at the doctor. "How can you be sure, doc. Ronon had to shoot her to bring her back."

"I didn't shoot her."

Everyone looked at Ronon, leaning against the glass wall, his muscled arms folded across his chest. He was keeping his arms close to him. He could still feel the coldness of the girl's body, unnatural cold.

"What do you mean?" Teyla asked, "Did you not bring her back unconscious?"

He nodded, "I did, but I didn't shoot her."

Rodney rolled his eyes and sighed, "Could you be a little more specific?"

Ronon fixed Rodney with a stare and the scientist took an unconscious step backward. With a shrug, he answered. "She backed herself into another corner. I was going to stun her while she just stood there and growled at me. When I lifted my gun, she stopped snarling, then covered her head and slid down to the floor shaking, then didn't move. I walked over and nudged her. She didn't react. I assumed she passed out."

Beckett sighed with relief. Weir asked, "Why didn't you tell us this earlier?"

Ronon shrugged, "You all talk too much. No one asked."

Carson waved his hand at Ronon as he looked back at Weir. "There, ye' see? If she were dangerous, she would 'ave attacked Ronon."

"Of course we'll just ignore the fact that anyone without an army or arrogant Wraith stupidity backs down from a fight with Ronon," Rodney said.

He was ignored.

"Elizabeth, she's not dangerous. Putting her in an isolation room would be a mistake."

"Carson, she attacked you and who knows what she would have done if she got into the city. And you already stated guards in the infirmary would just spark another episode."

Beckett bowed his head, taking a moment to formulate an alternative.

"Could we not just place her in restraints, without having to move her?" Teyla asked. Everyone looked at Carson.

The doctor sighed, "Considering the alternatives… I'm willing to go long with that. But no bloody guards in the infirmary. They can be outside the door, out of sight, but not inside."

"She needs to be watched, Carson," Weir said gently.

"Aye, I'll watch 'er," Beckett said.

"You know what I mean."

"She's just a child!"

"Fifteen is not quite a child, Carson," Weir said.

"We'll watch her."

All eyes turned to Sheppard. He shrugged and waved a hand casually, "Beckett doesn't want any guards in there, but if she needs watched…. We can handle her. Just sit nearby with a sedative ready or, in Ronon's case, his pistol, concealed. And then there will be guards stationed out of sight for major emergencies. Besides, she is a kid…a violent kid, but, what kid doesn't like to wake up to a friendly face?"

Rodney pointed at Ronon, "That's a friendly face?"

"Better than yours," Ronon intoned and Rodney glared.

Beckett looked at Weir, ignoring the other two men bait each other. "I won't object to that."

Elizabeth sat back in her chair, folding her arms, "I would feel better if we put her in an isolation room, lessening the chance she could escape and harm someone."

Carson shook his head, "I won't allow that. Based on what I saw in that room where we found her and that tattoo on her neck…she needs to stay in a friendly environment. Anything similar to that place would spark an episode, I'm sure of it."

"What tattoo?" Elizabeth asked, sitting forward, looking intently at the doctor.

Carson closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. He had completely forgotten to mention the tattoo, which was unlike him. He was high stung. He needed to get some sleep and wake up with a clear head. Carson took a breath and explained, "There is a tattoo on her neck. It's reminiscent of how laboratories tend to label their animal test subjects. By giving the subject a number rather than a name, they can remain detached. The tattoo and the place we found her leads me to believe she is a test subject of sorts."

Elizabeth folded her hands under her chin, understanding Beckett's argument more fully. Weir looked over at Sheppard. John remained silent. He had already said his piece; if he spoke now, he'd just be repeating himself. Instead, it was Rodney who spoke. "Look, if Carson is right and she was a lab rat, for lack of better phrase, then putting her in an environment similar to the one we found her in would probably be more dangerous than leaving her where she is."

Weir bit her lip, thinking out loud, "Still…we'd be risking endangering the city."

"I'll take full responsibility," Beckett said.

"…Alright, we'll leave her where she is and put her in restraints, for now…but if she attacks anyone, she goes into seclusion."

Carson nodded and Sheppard smiled, "Well, now that that's settled, Rodney." He draped his arm around McKay's shoulders and gave him a sideways hug, "Why don't you go down with the doc and take first shift?"

Rodney made a face, seeing Ronon smirking from the corner of his eye. "Oh…hell…."

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And here is chapter one. Pardon errors; if there are any of grand significance, do let me know and I will fix them. This story came to me in a dream that grew while I thought about it on my walk home from class. R&R please, and no flames. It's still too hot outside for fire.


	2. Patient 956 3271?

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis._

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**Chapter Two**

_Patient 956-3271?_

"How is she doing?" Elizabeth stood by the bed where the unknown girl laid, her wrists, ankles, and waist all secured in restraints. She had been unconscious for two days, showing no change in vitals or giving any indication she was going to wake up. The whole time Sheppard's team had taken turns sitting in the Infirmary to keep an eye on her with a needle nearby to put her under if the need arose. It didn't take long before they ended up sitting by her bed and talking at her. Teyla would hold the girl's hand and once Sheppard hooked up one of his football video games and explained everything he did to his oblivious audience. (Beckett had chided Sheppard, fearing the noise would wake the girl and frighten her. John had simply muted it.) Rodney tended to just complain to her about everything. Ronon talked to her, it had taken his third turn to do so, but what he talked about no one knew because he stopped speaking when anyone came within hearing range. Beckett also talked to the girl as he worked, mostly about this and that, sometimes asking her questions about herself, knowing he would not receive a response. Weir had visited the girl, but instead of talking, she had stood and watched her sleep, deep in thought, her eyes constantly going to the restraints.

"No change," Carson said, folding his arms. "She's not in a coma, just asleep. I suspect it has to do with the stasis chamber she was in. Her body is readjusting."

"Arwen will wake up," John said cheerfully from his chair by the girl's bed. It was his turn to sit and keep an eye on the girl. He was holding a copy of Football's Best Offensive Playbook by Dee Hawkes, something he'd requested be brought back on the Daedalus. It was a short book, highlighting some of the best offensive plays in use (When it was published in 1994, anyway). He'd wanted it to just read and use to try and teach some of the Athosian children how to play the game. They were quick studies.

Weir lifted an eyebrow, "Arwen?"

John smiled proudly, closing the book a bit as Carson explained. "It's come to a general consensus the lass needs a name. The staff started referring to her as 956, the first three parts on her tattoo. Some call her Jane or JD for Jane Doe. Colonel Sheppard here has dubbed her Arwen."

"I see," Elizabeth said, suppressing a smile. "And has anything stuck?"

"Not yet," John said. "But Arwen will, I tell you."

"The lass doesn't look anything like a Arwen," Beckett said.

"But she _could_ be. Besides, I don't see you calling her anything except love or lass, neither of which are proper names." John persisted.

Weir coughed, interrupting the banter, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to know if you can make anymore sense of her blood work, doctor?"

Carson waved a finger and led Weir over to a microscope. The day before he had run some blood work, purely routine. What he had found, however, was far from expected. The base of her genetic code with human, but there was a mess of other things, things he would not identify. He had searched for anything Wraith, thinking in this mess it might be in there, which could explain her hair and translucent skin, but fortunately he found none. (If he had found Wraith DNA, Carson as certain he wouldn't be able to convince Weir to let the girl remain where she was.) He had also found she possessed to ATA gene. Besides ruling out Wraith, confirming she was human, and possessed the ATA gene, he was unable to find anything conclusive. He doubted he would understand anything until Rodney was able to go back to the planet. The obnoxious man had not been able to go back as of yet because of a fierce blizzard that had come out of nowhere, making travel impossible and death by hypothermia very real. Rodney had not even gotten started on complaining about it.

Carson sat down on a stool, indicating the microscope, into which Weir bent to peer through. She didn't truly understand what she was looking at; she wasn't that kind of doctor, but she could discern from Carson's expression when she stood back it wasn't natural.

"I've look at it several times. I dunno what all I'm seeing, Elizabeth, but that girl's DNA has been messed with. I don't know what's all in there, probably won't until Rodney's able to go back and learn more from the database in the laboratory."

"So she's not human."

"No, she's not human, per se. Most of her DNA is human and she has the ATA gene, but, all this other…stuff. It was added. Like I said; someone messed with her genetic makeup. I'm certain she was a test subject."

"And that's all you know?" Weir asked, looking over at the girl, lying still as John talked to her about what sounded like football.

"Genetically speaking, yes. Externally, she's roughly fifteen years old, malnourished, and has probably never seen the sun. Asides from that, she's in perfect health."

Elizabeth nodded, and then looked at the doctor, "Carson, I wanted to apologize for the other day. I-"

Beckett held up a hand, "It's alright, Elizabeth. You were doing you're job and I was doing mine. It's alright."

Weir nodded, "Okay then. Keep me informed how the girl is doing."

"Aye." Then he called after her, "Are you goin' to name 'er anything?" He'd come to expect a declaration from everyone.

Weir smiled and called over her shoulder, "I'll use whatever sticks. I'm not good at naming things."

Weir left the infirmary to go and attend to a thousand other things. As she left, she passed Rodney, trudging to the sickbay, carrying his laptop with one hand and holding a powerbar he was eating in the other. He stopped and tried to say something around a mouthful of powerbar. Weir shook her head, suppressing a laugh and patted his shoulder, saying as she passed, "Have fun."

Rodney rolled his eyes. Ah yes, he'd have fun. He enjoyed sitting for hours in the med bay, working on this and that, eventually talking to a ice cold, catatonic girl, spilling his irritation at the ineptitude of his team and voiced ideas aloud to solve whatever problem there was to be solved. He would not admit the girl made a good sounding board, but she creeped him out. She just lay there, breathing, with no color at all, so white she almost blended into the sheets and hospital gown. And he couldn't get the image of her snarling like something possessed from two days ago. He wished the stupid blizzard would pass so he could go back and have an excuse not to be anywhere near the freaky teenager. He hated children and teenagers were children and this one was eerie.

"McKay!" Sheppard called, looking up from the book, "You're early. We were just getting to the good part, weren't we Arwen?"

Rodney made a face, "You are joking. You are not still trying to name her that?"

"What's wrong with it? She looks like an Arwen."

"For starters, she does not 'look' like an Arwen. Secondly, it's stupid to name anything after a fictional character. Thirdly, I'm sure she already has a name and you'd insult her by giving her a different one. Fourthly, you have no skill at name giving."

"I named the Puddlejumpers."

"Yes, well, goody for you. But need I remind you of Steve and Bob?"

"Those were good names!"

"For life sucking Wraith?"

"Well, if she has one, then we'll use it. But for now, while she's unconscious, I'd like to have a name to use."

"Then why not call her Jane, like everyone else?"

"Because she doesn't look like a Jane," he said simply. Rodney sighed. John smirked, "So, until we know her name, I'm going to keep calling her Arwen. I liked those movies." He stood up, tucking his book under his arm and motioned to the girl, "Have fun." He walked around and clapped Rodney on the shoulder as he left.

Rodney looked at his shoulder and made a face, looking at the girl and saying, "They were books first. Very good books." Then he stuffed the rest of his powerbar in his mouth, realizing he had just been about to start talking about nonsense to the pale girl. He pulled up a chair, not wanting the stool, and sat down, settling his laptop in his lap, and started working. He was going through what he had gathered from the lab on PR4-95C, which amounted to almost nothing without access to everything else. It was in code and he had yet to break it. Not that he couldn't do it, mind you. He could crack it on his own all right, but access to the lab would make cracking it go faster. He hoped the blizzard that prevented his return would end soon. Very soon.

After awhile of silence and talking basically to himself over what little he had, he switched tasks, writing up some reports for Weir and some to be sent back to Earth on the next Daedalus run. While he typed, he started to talk to the girl without really meaning to.

"I should have finished these yesterday. God, there is so much work to get done and being surrounded constantly by idiots is of no help whatsoever. Now, Zelenka isn't so bad. More intelligent than the absolute monkey's I have to deal with everyday. Of course, monkey sounds almost too kind a comparison. Maybe amebas would be better terms for them. How they managed to get here, I will never know. Jeanie's daughter is more intelligent than most of them.

"Jeanie's my kid sister, intelligent girl…stupidly threw her future away when she…no, I take that back. She just mixed priorities up. I guess it turned out okay. She'd be a better person to have here than half of those idiots. I should probably write her a letter and send it back on the next Daedalus run. Might want to find a better gift to send to Madison…I wonder if I should say anything to Caleb…I should probably try. Jeanie would appreciate it and I'm not exactly keen on us drifting apart again. Even if she did tell everyone my first name is Meredith. God…she knows I hate it.

"I don't know what was worse, hearing my past repeated verbatim after she left or hearing Sheppard call 'Meredith' in a singsong voice for three solid weeks. Talk about creepy. I swear my parents were on drugs when they named me, or some nurse was incompetent and wrote the wrong name on my birth certificate. It doesn't matter that it used to be a boy's name. It's not one anymore. It was a cruel joke…could be worse, though, I guess. Heh, I could be like you and not have a name, which might actually be bet-" he looked up and paused in speaking, ending the word slowly, "-ter."

Crimson eyes were watching him. The girl had woken, obviously, and now just lay still, watching him, her lips pursed and an emotionless expression on her face. Rodney swallowed, his eyes flickering from hers to the sedative needle on the table by him. She saw the movement of his eyes and followed them with her own. At her angle, she couldn't see the needle, which was probably a good thing.

Rodney swallowed. Why him? Why did the freaky girl have to wake up on _his_ turn to sit with her? Why did these things always happen to him? Why not Ronon, or Sheppard, or better, Teyla, who was a woman and would know exactly what to do with crazy teenagers with messed up DNA? But no, it had to be him, and now he couldn't move because those eyes, those unnaturally colored, frightening, primal eyes, were locked on his. He needed to call Carson…but he couldn't.

"Well…umm…hello," he managed, swallowing after each word. The girl continued to stare at him. McKay flinched when she made a sound in her throat and tried to lift a hand, but the restraint didn't allow for much movement. She looked away from Rodney and down to her arm. She whimpered and started to jerk, trying to get her arm free and realizing in her struggle more of her was strapped and the whimpers turned to silent screams of panic.

"Hey!" Rodney cried, hastily putting his laptop on the floor and jumping to his feet. He didn't think, he just acted, putting his hands on the girl's thin shoulders and pressed her down. "Hey! It's okay, calm down. You're safe. Stop moving, would you!"

The girl went still and stared up at him, so many emotions playing on her face one right after the other Rodney could barely keep up. She settled on something akin to a puppy's plaintive expression and whimpered again, pulling weakly at the restraints. Rodney pressed her down again and said firmly, "Stop it."

No movement was made and Rodney removed his hands and looked at the girl. She kept her eyes on him, then closed her eyes and turned her head away, her body trembling. When she stopped looking at him with her crimson eyes, Rodney came out of his stupor, his brain functioning fully. Rodney looked at her for a moment before turning and calling over his shoulder, "Carson!"

Beckett appeared from his office, mouth opened to speak but kept silent and rushed over as Rodney said, "She's awake."

The doctor came over and around to the other side. The white girl's eyes were open and she stared at nothing, but when Carson came within her sight, she turned her head and looked at him. Beckett could see recognition in her eyes, especially when she looked at his face, the scratches now held closed by tape. She started to struggle again, pulling with her arms. Carson reached out a hand, "It's alright, love. Calm down, would you?"

Another whimper from the girl and, though she stopped struggling, she shrank away from Carson as much as she could, turning her eyes up at Rodney, silently pleading for his help, his protection. Unlike before, where her eyes had unnerved and frozen him, he didn't feel it now. The look reminded him of the time Jeanie had fallen out of a tree, a tree he had told her not to climb, but she hadn't listened. She broke her leg. Rodney had run to her, yelling at the top of his lungs for their parents. He recalled holding his sister, trying to calm her while she cried and apologized for not listening. She had looked at him with a similar look, pleading with her eyes and tears for him to make it stop hurting and to not leave her.

On impulse, or instinct, Rodney put his hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's okay, you're safe."

The girl whimpered, then looked at Carson, back at Rodney, then sank back into the bed, pressing herself into it as much as she could, squinting her eyes shut. Her lips parted as she clenched her teeth and her fingers curled into twin fists (Her long nails had been clipped to normal size), but otherwise she did not move.

Beckett nodded to Rodney, who stood still, looking at his hand still on the girl's shoulder. He pulled it away quickly. Carson looked the girl over, noting how she remained almost perfectly still under his touch. "How long has she been awake?"

McKay shrugged, "I don't know. I only noticed a couple minutes ago. She could have been awake the entire time I've been here."

"What happened?"

"She just stared at me. Then she started trying to get out of the restraints and I…calmed her down, actually." Rodney looked a bit proud of himself, then he snapped his fingers and added, "Then I called for you. Sorry, her waking up threw me off."

"Aye, understandable." He tapped his radio, "Doctor Weir? Aye, I'm fine. Our guest is awake. No, she's perfectly civil." Well, if you could call lying still as stone, seemingly prepared for a beating 'civil'. "Aye."

When he looked back at the girl, her eyes were open again, staring at Carson with…what was that? Disbelief? Fear? Hope? Since he didn't know, he just smiled at her and patted her hand. She flinched, trying to jerk away, but couldn't. He removed his hand, noting she followed his hand with her eyes as he placed it behind his back. She cast her eyes on his and her eyes narrowed, but the effect was lost as she suddenly sneezed.

"Bless you," the doctor said as he pulled out a tissue and gently wiped her nose. The girl growled and, for a moment, he thought she was going to bite him, but then the growl just stopped, replaced by a sigh.

Weir arrived a few moments later, with Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon in tow. Beckett sighed. He knew they would all end up coming, but he had hoped at least one would have not. Their guest had just woken up; too many new faces could be a mistake. The girl, however, looked at the new faces with a mix of interest and fear. Weir smiled at her, "Hello."

The girl stared at her, then at the others, then back at Weir. She looked confused, as if she as expecting something, waiting for something to happen, but it wasn't happening. Her hands remained in fists and she pulled at her restraints a bit, but when she saw Beckett and Rodney both shake their heads slightly at her action, she froze, then relaxed her arms and unclenched her hands.

Weir lifted an eyebrow and looked at the two men, "Gentlemen?"

"She woke up a few minutes ago," Carson explained. "According to Rodney, she was relatively calm until she noted the restraints. She tried pulling at them, which is perfectly normal. Doctor McKay was able to calm her."

"Rodney?"

"McKay?"

Elizabeth and John spoke at the same time and Rodney flushed angrily, "What?"

"Nothing," Weir said, and then looked back at Beckett, "Has she said anything?"

"Except for growls and whimpers, she hasn't made a sound."

Weir looked down at the girl, who was watching them, studying them. Elizabeth leaned down, her face gentle, holding her eyes on those of the girl's. Though the crimson irises unsettled Weir, she could see behind all of the shifting emotions human intelligence, and somehow that was intimidating.

"Hello," Weir said again, "Do you understand me?"

The girl stared at her, and then tried to move her arms again. She looked pleadingly at Weir, then closed her eyes, made an inhuman noise in her throat, opened her eyes once more and nodded ever so slightly.

Elizabeth smiled, "Good. I'm glad. Can you speak?"

The girl's eyes went wide and she whimpered, trying to move away from Weir, away from the group of people on the right side of where she lay, closer to Rodney who was the only person on her left, and far less threatening. She looked up at the scientist, pleadingly again.

"It's okay," he said, painfully aware everyone was watching him. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to…and it's also perfectly okay if you can't. Though speech would be very, _very _helpful…." He trailed off and the girl stared at him. Rodney just shrugged.

Teyla stepped forward, silently asking Weir to step aside as she came up and placed a hand on the girl's cold one. The girl looked over at Teyla, her eyes wary. Teyla smiled, "It is alright. My name is Teyla. This," she motioned to Rodney, contemplating using his given name or title, "This is Rodney." She turned slightly and indicated the others, "This is Elizabeth, Carson, John, and Ronon. We are friends. You are safe among us. Do you have a name?"

The girl made no sound one way or the other. Instead, she furrowed her brow; her face seeming to fall for a moment, then rolled her head to the right, showing the tattooed serial number on the left side of her neck. Then she rolled her head back and lifted an arm, not trying to get free this time, simply indicating the restraints.

Teyla nodded her head, "Yes, we are sorry. You did attack one of our people. We did not want someone else to be hurt, or for you to hurt yourself. Do not worry. They need not remain forever. Correct, Doctor Weir?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Right." She added no more because from the look on the girl's face, she understood. She looked at Elizabeth and laid her arm down, relaxing, then nodded firmly once. Her eyes closed after that and did not reopen. Carson stepped forward and looked her over, checking the monitor. "She's asleep."

"She didn't seem very violent," Ronon said with what sounded like disappointment.

"No, she didn't," Weir said. She frowned and folded her arms. The girl had seemed nothing like the creature from a few days before; she had seemed lost and frightened on this occasion, very much like how Carson kept referring to her: A child. But a child with violent tendencies…but that had been a few days ago when there were men with guns. She had given no indication of violence this time with them standing there, not that Weir had seen. When threatened, she had tried to move away, gravitating to Rodney, perhaps because he was the only one standing on her left. But Beckett had mentioned the girl had struggled fiercely to get free, but Rodney had calmed her.

She didn't like the sight of keeping the frail looking girl tied down. She still needed to be watched. If this had been any indication, she was wary around people in general, even more so when faced with weapons, as seen a few days before. The girl was intelligent, she understood what had been said, and she had understood what had not been said.

"Excuse me," Weir said, backing up and turning to leave.

"Elizabeth?" Sheppard called. Weir had a tone. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Colonel. I just need to go and get some work done." She left the infirmary, whispering to herself, "And think a few things over."

After a moment's silence when Weir had left, Teyla patted the cold hand of the girl, "I have never felt anyone so cold who was not dead. Should she have not warmed by now?"

"Aye," Beckett said, "Ye' would think so. I don't know how to bring it up. It would seem that is normal body temperature, for her."

"She needs a name," Ronon intoned.

Before Sheppard could say anything, Rodney snapped, "We are _not_ calling her Arwen."

Carson lifted his hands, "Look, I have work to do. Could everyone who's not supposed to help me watch her leave?" Nobody moved, and he didn't blame them, well he did, but he understood. She'd showed her tattoo as her name, which was not a name at all. It was a number. She did need a name, a proper name. "If it makes you all happy, I will set up a box on my desk. I'll give everyone the rest of the day to write down a name and put it in the box."

"Then what?" Ronon asked.

Carson waved his hands, "Then when the lass wakes, she can pull one out and that will be her name. Now, that's the best I can come up with at the moment. Please, leave."

They left, all save Teyla who offered to take over early from Rodney. The scientist nodded and gathered up his things, making his exit as he argued with Sheppard who had declared he was going to put 'Arwen' in the box. The conversation faded out of hearing range when Sheppard asked if Rodney had a better name in mind.

---------

Word had gotten around Atlantis about the fragile pale girl. Everyone knew about her, most of it second or third hand, and mere hearsay. What got around even faster after Beckett had dismissed unwanted personnel from the med bay was that the girl was indeed nameless and there was a contest to name her. The entire thing turned out to be a boost for moral, but it turned into hell from Carson.

People from all over the city trickled into the med bay to add their suggestion to the box and sneak a peek at the girl. Carson wasn't sure who had spread his suggestion, but when he found out, he was going to get revenge. He could hardly work having to deal with people coming in. He tried to contact Weir, but he couldn't reach her, which he found odd, though he had little time to dwell as he and his staff kept herding people out.

He finally settled on putting the box on a stool at the end of the corridor leading to the med bay, instructing the guards for the girl to shoot anyone who tried to come down the hall, unless it was Weir or a member of SGA-1. Beckett wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the sounds of guns about to be fired a couple dozen times.

After that, it had been quiet. Well, almost quiet. Toward the end of the day, after dusk, the girl woke up again. Carson had moved what he was working on out of his office so he could keep an eye on her better as the person watching her at the time was Ronon. Eventually, Beckett opted to forget work and sat back, arms folded, watching the pale girl and the dark man. Their interaction was most unexpected, especially from Ronon.

She was still restrained, of course, unable to do much of anything except stare. However, Ronon had started up a sort of game. Why he did so, Carson didn't know. Ronon didn't strike him as the kind of person to play games that didn't involve beating the crap out of someone. Yet, he watched the former runner sit on a stool next to the girl. One game seemed to consist of Ronon sliding his hand up along the bed under the girl's own hand, which she had raised up as far as the restraints would allow. The goal of the game was for her to slap the top of Ronon's hand. At the start of the game, she missed most of the time, but as the game progressed, she hit almost every time.

The other game was finger wrestling, and it made Beckett nervous. More than once he found his mouth opening to tell Ronon to stop, but he stopped each time. Ronon would place a finger atop on of the girl's and she would try and get her finger free and on top of his, wherein he would then attempt to get his finger on top and the process would repeat. Though he feared Ronon would end up breaking one of the girl's thin fingers, he didn't stop them for one simple reason: The girl was smiling. It wasn't a very big smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. It was an improvement over whimpers and growls.

Around midnight Sheppard arrived, ready to take his shift with the still unnamed girl. Behind him was Teyla and Weir, Rodney trailing behind, _the_ box in his hands. Ronon and the girl did not look up from their finger game, and they probably would not until pointedly interrupted. The girl had Ronon's finger trapped under her own and it was clear Ronon was struggling to get his finger back on top. He grunted and gritted his teeth, his eyes locking with the girl's. She held his gaze without wavering, her eyes narrowed, a small smirk on her lips.

Unconsciously, everyone gathered around the bed, watching the finger battle. It seemed impossible the girl's thin, bony finger was keeping Ronon's finger from getting free. After a few minutes, the girl's finger slipped and Ronon trapped hers down. A moment later, the girl had trapped his again, then they switched again and again until Weir coughed, startling them both. Ronon pulled his hand away and said thickly, "We aren't done."

The girl nodded her head once firmly, and then she smirked and wriggled her finger at the dark man, a silent taunt that she would be ready and he would lose.

Ronon shook his back and growled, leaving the others a bit dumbstruck at his attitude.

Sheppard took the box from Rodney's hands and passed it to Beckett, "Here you go, Doc."

Carson took the box with a sigh. He should have expected his words would have been taken literally. Ronon stood and stepped out of the doctor's way as he sat down on the stool. The girl looked at him, cocking her head in curiosity. Carson couldn't help but shake his head. She had gone from murderously violent, to scared and wary, to smirking and comfortable in the presence of himself, Ronon, John, Teyla, Rodney, and Elizabeth.

"Lift you hand, love," he asked and she obeyed. He carefully dumped the contents on the bed under her hand, grouping it together in a pile. He nodded, "Pick one."

She didn't move her hand, her head cocking to the other side. Teyla understood and the girl turned her head to look at the Athosian leader when she explained, "You have no name. Our people have made suggestions. Names have been written upon those pieces. The one you pick will become your name."

The girl frowned and turned her head, showing her tattoo. Rodney scoffed, "No. That is a number, not a name. You are not a number."

The girl stared at him, then down at the pieces of paper. After a moment, she curved her fingers and started to flick through the pile, sending the papers everywhere. She sifted through them before she cocked her head and looked at her mess. Some pieces she couldn't reach. After a moment of consideration, she picked up on between her index and middle finger. She held it up and Carson took it. The doctor unfolded the paper, read the name, looked at the girl, and then nodded, "Aye."

He passed the paper to Weir, who read it. It was typed, size 12 Times New Roman font, making the person who had suggested it impossible to identify. Still, the doctor smiled and then folded the paper in half and stuck it in her pocket. John and Rodney both made sounds of disappointment. Weir ignored them and stepped to the girl's bedside. She reached down and undid the restraint on the girl's right hand, then undid the one to her left. The girl looked down, hesitatingly raising her arms, confusion on her face. She looked at Weir, her face a mixture of emotions, the most prominent one of fear. Weir smiled, taking hold of one of the girl's hands gently to reassure her she was not going to be harmed. The thin, pale hands somehow seemed warmer, but that have just been Elizabeth's imagination.

"Welcome to Atlantis…Gwen."

-------------

Well, now she has a name and I can use more than just female pronouns and 'girl'. And the whole 'Arwen' thing came from a conversation I had with one of my siblings. I was Rodney in said conversation.

Anyway, chapter two. R&R, no flames, still too hot.

Moonravencrow: Soon enough for you? Lol

Nwfairy: That's okay. It was just a general statement that if anyone were to have any, I wouldn't be offended or anything.


	3. Mistake

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_Mistake_

His head lay on the table in the cafeteria, both hands covering his head, as if trying to hide from the world. It was hopeless, absolutely hopeless. Rodney had pestered Elizabeth again to open the gate and see if it was safe to return to PR4-95C, which is wasn't. The UAV they sent had barely been through the gate five seconds before it was shoved right back into the event horizon. Now they were one less UAV, and it wasn't likely he'd be able to go through anytime soon and find this 'great power', which they desperately needed, what with no ZedPM because it had been used up sending Rodney's alternate self back to his own universe.

McKay was convinced it was a power source. That's how it looked from the notes he had and was pretty certain he had decoded correctly. But he was frustrated, just like Carson who couldn't make heads or tails over the girl's blood work. And what made it all the better was Gwen didn't talk. He had been counting on her being able to talk, but it seemed her communication skills were a lot like Ronon's: Limited to throat sounds. It was little wonder the girl seemed to like the former runner so much. Cave dwellers, the both of them, had to stick together.

Something hit Rodney on his hand, something round and wet. He paid it no mind. He didn't feel like talking, or eating. He just wanted to sit like he was and think. Maybe something would come to him, but considering he wasn't facing imminent death, his mind wasn't clicking like he wanted it to. Then he felt something on his neck. It was wet and slimy and-

"Colonel!" Rodney jerked up, wiping at the back of his neck to rid himself of the sensation and noodle that had been dropped on his skin. Sheppard sat across from the astrophysicist, looking as innocent as innocent could be, but Rodney could have sworn he saw a devil tail pull out of sight. Rodney glared, "That was really mature. Yuck."

"I don't know what you're talking about, McKay," Sheppard said, taking a bite of his food, some sort of oriental stir-fry with noodles. "Stop sulking."

"I am not sulking," Rodney said, defending himself. He was _not_ sulking. Rodney McKay, brilliant scientist extraordinaire, was above sulking. Now Radek, he sulked. Rodney did not. "I was thinking."

"No, you were sulking," Sheppard countered, "because a little snow storm won't let you go back."

"It's not a 'little snow storm'. It's a blizzard. There is a difference." He paused, and then added, "I wasn't sulking."

"Now you're whining."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are..._Meredith._"

"I am…You…I don't have to take this abuse."

Sheppard spread his hands, "What abuse? I just sat down to eat and keep you company." He eyed his teammate. "Are you okay, Rodney?"

"I'm just fine, thanks. Now, excuse me." McKay stood and stalked off, Sheppard watching him leave and sighed. How many times did they have to tell Rodney depleting the ZPM was okay? Well…not okay, because they needed one, at least one, but it had been depleted for a good cause. Besides, they would find another one. Somehow. It wasn't like the scientist had blown up another solar system because his ego got in the way.

Sheppard looked down at his food. He flicked a pea off his plate, watching it fly in the air and disappear from sight. His team needed a break from things, to unwind. But then there was the girl, Gwen. She'd been there for a total of four days now, nothing much having changed except for the fact she wasn't in restraints anymore and seemed genuinely comfortable around Sheppard as his team. Her bullet wound was healing quickly. T had been a graze and she had a few stitches holding it closed now. John narrowed his eyes and flicked another pea then looked at his watch. He was up to hang out with Gwen next, but during that shift he had also scheduled some sparing with Ronon. Whoops.

Sheppard finished his lunch, and then rose to go and talk to Elizabeth. Sheppard had been in the infirmary enough times to know how dull it became. Besides, the girl did nothing but sit in her bed and watch the world go on around her, listen to John and his team when they spoke to her, and 'play' small wrestling games with Ronon. It was high time the girl got out and about. That and John was getting just a little bored with spending so much time in the med bay.

He jogged to Weir's office, slowing down and entering at a leisurely gait. Upon entering he smiled, "Am I interrupting anything?"

Teyla was in the room and she turned and shook her head as Weir answered, "We were just finishing."

"Oh…about what?"

"I wanted to remind Doctor Weir I had scheduled time to go to the mainland the day after tomorrow. I wished to know if Gwen could join me."

"Really?" Sheppard asked, looking at both women. Well, this certainly boded well because Teyla's tone rang that she had been given permission. "And?"

"I'm going to allow it," Elizabeth replied. "Carson thinks a natural setting would be good for her. Just remember to keep a sedative with you," Elizabeth said as she looked at Teyla, "Just in case. I don't want anyone getting hurt."

"I will remember Doctor Weir, but I suspect one will not be needed."

Weir smiled, and then turned her attention to Sheppard, "And what can I do for you?"

John smiled, "Actually, it's along pretty much the same lines. I think it's high time Gwen got out of bed, and since I have sparing with Ronon later, I thought maybe I could show her around and take her with me."

"I see," Weir said and looked down at her hands. When she looked back up, there was a confused look on her face. "I am going to assume you haven't spoken with Rodney today?"

It was John's turn to look bewildered, "I just got done eating lunch with him."

"And he didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what," there was an edge in his voice indicating McKay was going to be in trouble.

"I gave him permission to let the girl stay in his lab this evening on his watch. I told him as long as she was accompanied by one of you and you carried a sedative, she was allowed to be up and about in the city. Carson presented a strong argument and…I don't like keeping her cooped up. Rodney said he'd tell you all."

"Well he _didn't_ tell me," John sounded very annoyed.

"Perhaps he forgot," Teyla suggested.

"McKay does not just 'forget'," Sheppard ground, "It's because I said he was sulking."

Weir sucked in a breath and Teyla gave John a pitying face. Sheppard put his hands in his pockets, "So, I have a yes then?"

"Yes. Carry a sedative and stay with her."

"And what about those guards?"

Elizabeth bit her lip and rubbed her hands together, "After a lengthy discussion with Carson this morning…there won't be any. He firmly believes if she sees them, it would spark another violent episode. He believes as long as she's with one of your team, she'll be fine. And, from what I have seen of her behavior…I'm inclined to agree."

"Oh…well then…" he started to back out, "I'm going to go then."

He turned and Weir called out to him, "John, I'm counting on you."

He nodded, "Yes ma'am." He turned again and took another few steps.

"And John?"

He turned, "Yes?"

"Don't kill Rodney."

Sheppard thought about it, "I'll try not to…make a mess."

---------------

"Here you go, Colonel. If anything happens, that will do the trick. And call me straight away, do ye' understand?"

"Yeah, Doc, just like I understood the last five times you told me. Do you realize you're acting like a mother hen?"

"Sorry…guess I've gotten a wee bit attached to her."

"Just a wee?"

Carson made a face and waved a hand dismissively, "Go away before I change my mind."

Sheppard chuckled, pocketing the sedative. He strolled from Beckett's office and went over to Gwen's bed. The girl was sitting up, cross-legged, looking unnaturally straight and stiff in her posture. Her hospital gown was gone, replaced by a light blue long-sleeved shirt, baggy dark blue pants, and back boots. John knew there was a bandaged underneath her shirt to help protect her stitches. The clothes had been easy to find, but a spare pair of boots that fit had not been the simplest of quests. Her long hair lay down her back in a single braid. She watched Sheppard approach, her crimson eyes still holding nervousness but there was also trust. He smiled and she smiled back, but John wasn't sure if it was because she was happy to see him or if she was simply mimicking.

"Hello Gwen," he said, "You ready?" She cocked her head to the side and Sheppard decided that it meant 'yes'. He held out his hand, "Come on. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

Gwen stared at him, then down at the proffered hand. Slowly, she lifted her own and looked at it, then back at his. She met his eyes and he nodded, waving his hand slightly. Gwen's brows furrowed. Then, with jerking motions of hesitation, she placed her cold hand in his. Sheppard shuddered from the sensation, but he did not pull away. He gripped her hand firmly and stepped back, pulling her with him. The girl followed, slipping down to the floor and stepped away from the bed, her braid swinging behind her. Sheppard smiled. Despite the pointed ears, red eyes, and white skin, she looked just like any other member of the Atlantis expedition.

Pulling her next to him, Sheppard started them toward the door, marveling at her height. She was taller than he had expected; her chin equal to his shoulder. Her thin frame made her seem so small. At the threshold, though, the girl whimpered and planted her feet, refusing to go any further. She looked up at Sheppard pleadingly, her hand shaking.

"Hey, it's okay," he said reassuringly, letting go of her hand and firmly grasping her shoulders. She trembled and closed her eyes. "Hey, Gwen, look at me." She opened her eyes. "You don't need to be scared, okay? I'm right here."

The girl's mouth opened, then closed, then she looked away, back into the infirmary, back into the place she knew was safe. Sheppard tried again, "Hey, it's not going anywhere. I promise. We're going to see Ronon, and later Rodney."

Gwen turned her head back to look at him. He could see her thinking on this and so he let go of her shoulders, taking a step back and held out his hand again. Gwen eyed it, then back at the med bay. She bowed her head, then lifted it again and grasped his hand. John smiled, "There ya' go."

They started down the hallway, the guards that had been there now gone. Gwen kept a firm hold on John's hand, her eyes and head turning this way and that as she looked around. Her free hand kept straying out to touch the walls and when he paused to let her do so, she pulled her hand back to her chest as if she'd just been caught doing something wrong.

When more people came into the picture, instead of freezing up Gwen jerked her hand out of John's and wrapped both of her arms around his, moving to walk behind him, peeking out. It was not the action he had been preparing himself for, but it better than he had expected. He also felt a swell of pride. The girl trusted him, trusted him enough to cling to him, trusted him to protect her instead of running back to the Infirmary and hiding or lashing out violently.

Their positions did not change until they arrived at the balcony near the gateroom. Gwen had buried her face in his arm and had not noticed the change from indoors to out. John pulled on his arm, causing her to look up and begin to whimper, but the sound died in her throat when she saw what was before her. As if in a trance, she let go of her guide and walked to the rail, looking down upon Atlantis, resting her eyes on the ocean, then casting them up to the sky. She closed her eyes and her entire body relaxed. Sheppard smiled, stepping forward and leaning against the rail. The girl didn't acknowledge him.

A soft wind blew past them and the girl's eyes shot open and she gasped, feeling the wind pass over her. She looked around, as if trying to see it, and then reached out a hand, feeling the wind curl around it. Her eyes began to sparkle and her mouth broke out into a grin. Sheppard smiled as he watched her, and then stepped away. He turned back around quickly. He thought he'd heard something, a laugh, but Gwen was just standing where she was, hand out in the breeze, smiling.

"Must have been the wind," he said to himself.

Sometime later, Sheppard once more had the girl latched onto his arm, peering around his shoulder at the various people they passed. No one tried to stop and talk, but most stared. It made the girl uncomfortable; Sheppard could tell by the way she kept shoving her face into his back to hide.

She had changed so quickly after they had left the balcony. She stood there for over an hour, looking out at the city and ocean, gazing at the sky and playing with the wind. The look on her face was one of such awe John wondered if maybe it was really true; she had never seen the sun. The smile never left her face and her crimson eyes twinkled in innocent pleasure and wonder. Sheppard had fallen asleep watching her, waking up to find her gently shaking him as she looked fearfully at a group of people who had gathered nearby. The smile had gone and the look of pure fear was back in her eyes along with desperate pleading for him to do something.

Sheppard had scattered the group and once they had gone, Gwen had grabbed hold of his arm and buried her face in his shoulder. He reassured her it was okay and asked if she wanted to stay a bit longer. She had shaken her head violently, refusing to look up, keeping her face hidden. He'd wondered if he should give her a hug, to reassure her she was okay, but that had been the point when she'd wrapped her arms securely around his and moved to hide behind him, one eye peering out.

Now they were on their way to the training room. When they arrived, they found Ronon already training, hardly breaking a sweat as he sent two marines crashing to the floor. The two men groaned and Ronon flicked his head, getting his dreadlocks out of his eyes and eyed Sheppard.

"You're late."

"Sorry," John replied, "Lost track of time."

Ronon grunted and looked at Gwen, who had stepped out from behind Sheppard but still had her arms wrapped firmly around his. He cocked his head and raised a hand, wriggling a finger at her. Gwen mimicked his movements, cocking her head in the same manner and wriggling a finger back. Ronon smirked and John carefully freed his arm.

"Go sit over there, okay?" He motioned toward a corner.

Gwen looked at the corner, then at the two marines on the floor, then to the three other men in the room, two looking like they had already had their bought with Ronon and one looking as if he really wanted to leave. Gwen grabbed Sheppard's hand and shook her head.

"Hey, it's okay. Just go sit down. No one will hurt you. Ronon and I will see to it."

Gwen looked at Ronon and then back at John. Biting her lower lip, she nodded and bowed her head, scurrying over to the indicated corner and sat down, drawing her knees up to her chest and lowered her head, peering at the men over her kneecaps. This looked familiar somehow.

The girl was silent the entire time, only her eyes moving as she watched the men spar. Two on two, two on three, one on one, one of three, the numbers changed, the pairs shifted. The smell of sweat filled the room. The sounds indicating various degrees of pain and frustration floated around the room. When it started, Gwen had felt choked, afraid. Ronon knocked the legs out from under one man. Sheppard twisted an arm behind another's back. A marine pinned Sheppard to the floor. Ronon stumbled a moment from a surprise attack from his blind side. So much violence, so many sounds…her mind took it all in…and then….

John slumped against the wall, breathing heavily, holding out a hand, "Okay big guy, that's…I can't…don't you ever get tired?"

Ronon smirked and backed up a few steps, spreading his arms wide, looking at the exhausted men. "No one else?"

"I think I broke a rib," one of the marine's said.

"So, that's a no?" Ronon said and lowered his arms. He was a little tired and sore, but he was still up for more. He turned around and paused, looked over his shoulder at Sheppard, then back again. At the edge of the mat Gwen stood, one foot before the other, her body weight resting on her rear foot, her hands up in a defensive position.

"Gwen," John said, pushing himself up.

Ronon lifted a hand, making John pause. The runner looked at the girl, at her white skin, thin frame; everything about her said she was an easy target. But then there was that finger game he played with her. Ronon eyed her, "You?"

Gwen nodded once.

Ronon settled into his own stance.

"Ronon," Sheppard said warningly, "She's still healing from being shot. She has stitches."

"She stepped up. The risk is her own."

"Gwen, sit back down," Sheppard ordered. The girl ignored him, shifting a bit, a look of determination on her face.

"Ronon…" John said warningly to the large man.

"I won't hurt her," Ronon said and started to circle to the left. Gwen circled to the right, her eyes trained on Ronon. John slumped back against the wall, feeling the sedative in his pocket. This didn't seem like a good idea, it really didn't. She got hurt or those stitches broke…he really did not want to know what an angry Scottish doctor could do to a person in revenge. But…he was curious. Gwen was so much smaller than Ronon, thinner, and there was the wound on her side. What in the world possessed her to stand up and challenge Ronon to a spar? If it went south, he reasoned, he could just stick her…or Ronon, depending on who was more troublesome. The marines backed up to the walls, equally curious. Ronon would snap the kid like a twig.

They circled each other, their steps measured and certain. Gwen's face was concentrated, her eyes only on Ronon, ignoring the whispers in the background. She feigned an attack to the left, and then pulled back into a defensive position. Ronon had moved to block, baffled that she hadn't followed through with an alternate attack. They continued to circle, Gwen jerking in the pretense of attacking, but never actually trying anything. Eventually, Ronon got tired of waiting for her to attack and when she pretended to attack him again, he came forward and swung at her. The girl ducked and spun, coming to a stop behind him and slapped him on the back. He turned, trying to swipe her feet from under her, but she jumped and the palm of her hand struck him in the chest. The force of the blow was surprising and Ronon stumbled back, caught off guard and taken aback by the strength.

Gwen stood in the middle of the mat, her hands at her sides, looking at Ronon, waiting for him. He came at her again, attempting to strike her, expecting her to throw up blocking blows. Instead, she simply dodged with surprising speed. He swung left, she pulled back. He swung right, she ducked. An uppercut was met with a twist of her head.

He punched forward, straight into her face. She didn't move but his fist never made contact. Her cold hand and came up and caught his fist, stopping it. She squeezed his fist, then twisted it slightly and shoved him backwards. Ronon caught himself, making himself steady and stared at the girl. All that movement, over an hour had passed, and she had not broken into a sweat. She looked at fresh as she had when she had stepped onto the mat and accepted his challenge.

Ronon shook his hand and smirked, "Okay. Let's dance."

Sheppard watched from where he leaned against the wall in mute fascination. He could barely hear the marines whispering to each other, making bets. Gwen's braid whipped around her, some of her hair coming undone as she struck and blocked blows, jumping and swiping. Her body twisted in almost unnatural grace and flexibility. Ronon showed no mercy and soon her impassive expression changed to one of grim determination and her breathing became audible as it increased. She tried to punch him, he blocked. He struck, she dodged. His fist struck her in the jaw, splitting her lip; she nailed him in the stomach.

Ronon aimed for her solar plexus, and she dodged, a leg coming up to strike him in the jaw with her heel. He grabbed hold of her ankle, stopping her cold and twisted sharply. She spun, landing on the mat on her hands, using her momentum to then spring back up, doing a flip, landing with her back to him. He came at her and she sidestepped, catching him in the arm, sending him off balance for a moment. He regained his footing and she struck out. He dodged, she missed, and he roughly shoved her back. She landed on her back and he came at her. She jerked up, diving through his legs then kicking out at his knee. He went to the ground and she went at him again, only to be thrown over his shoulder. She twisted in the air, landing on all fours, rising and settling back into a ready pose as he flicked his hair from his eyes and placed himself in a similar pose.

Blow for blow, block for block, the dance went on. Ronon sweated and the girl's breathing labored. Ronon struck out and Gwen spun to dodge. He grabbed her braid and her mouth opened in a muted cry of pain as he yanked, hard, pulling her to his chest. He pinned her against him, his arm over her neck.

"I win," he ground.

Gwen seemed to think otherwise. Her head twisted just enough as mouth opened and she bit Ronon's arm. Hard. Startled, his grip loosened and she grabbed a hold of his upper arm. She was smaller than he; so much smaller, but she grabbed his arm all the same and pitched forward, flipping him up and over and he landed on his back, slightly winded. She came upon him, but she was slow in moving as Ronon was able to get on his knees, grabbing her arm and knocking her flat on her back. His hand went to her throat. Gwen tried to break free, grabbing his hand to pull it away. The pressure on her neck increased. Her crimson eyes went to his and her hands fell from his arm and she lay limply on the floor.

Ronon grunted and sat back, bowing his head and panting. He was sore. He was tired. And he had almost lost. Gwen sat up, lightly touching her split lip, pulling her fingers away to look at the bit of blood upon them. She wiped her fingers on her pants and sucked on her lip, laying one of her cold hands on Ronon's shoulder. He looked up at her, and her eyes were…what were they telling him? Sorry?

"What are you?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers, demanding and answer.

Gwen flinched and took her hand back, pulling it close to her chest and looked away.

"I think that's enough for today," Sheppard said, coming forward, looking down at Gwen. The pale girl looked up at him. There was no sweat, her face showed no sign of exertion. Heck, the only mark on her was the split lip which was scabbing over. John found himself sharing Ronon's sentiment: What was she? The teenager was so thin, so frail in appearance and yet she had almost beaten Ronon. Or had she truly been defeated? She had seemed so childish on the balcony, and she had seemed so timid as they walked in the halls and here…here she had seemed so, what was the word? He couldn't find it just then. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't grab it.

Getting to his feet, Ronon stretched, holding out his hand to help Gwen up. She eyed his hand, looked at his face, then pursed her lips and took hold of the dark man's hand firmly. Ronon pulled her up, smirking as he looked at Sheppard, "I'm going to shower." He looked at the teenager, "We aren't done."

He left and Gwen watched him leave, running her tongue over her new scab, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. No, they were far from done. The door slid closed and Gwen placed her hands on top of her head and tapped her finger's against her skull, turning her head to look at Sheppard.

John glanced at his watch. It was later than he had thought. It was past dinner and Rodney's shift was about an hour or so away. He would need to get them fed, and he needed to tell Weir about this. Sheppard clapped a hand on the girl's shoulder, "Well, that was fun. Let's go eat, that sound okay?"

Gwen nodded and promptly wrapped her arms back around his, burying her face in his back. She had gone from a grim fighter back to a shy child. Sheppard patted her head, telling her she needed to stop hiding, she was safe. He heard a snicker from one of the marines still in the room. Sheppard fixed the man with a glare, "Something funny, Corporal?"

"No sir," the man said, coming to attention.

"I thought so," Sheppard said, "Now all of you, dismissed."

The marines hastily made their exit, a couple chancing to look back over their shoulders and looking away quickly to escape the glare being sent their way. When they had gone, Gwen peeked back out from around John's shoulder, adjusting her hold on his arm and pressing the side of her face into his arm.

Sheppard absently patted her head with his free hand and led her out toward the dining hall. Once there, she refused to let go of John's arm so he could get a tray, her eyes fixed on the people sitting down and eating. Sheppard tried to explain kindly, then tried to get his arm free forcefully, but she was like a leech. He was saved from anymore hassle by Teyla.

"Do you need assistance, Colonel Sheppard?"

Sheppard could see the smirk on her face, "Yes, actually, thanks. I just have a…small problem."

"I see," Teyla said, looking at Gwen with a smile. The girl smiled back, her mouth opening and closing a couple of times before she bowed her head and pressed her check back into John's arm. Sheppard made a face, "Teyla just get…whatever, please? I'll….We'll claim a table."

A few moments later, they were seated, Gwen having finally released her captive, sitting in her chair with her feet up, arms wrapped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees, watching the people around her. Sheppard sat across from her. Teyla came over with a tray, setting a sandwich and a bowl of blue Jell-O before Gwen. The dessert seemed to be a favorite among the expedition team, and she enjoyed it herself. Gwen looked at it and poked a cube with a finger. It wiggled and her eyes went wide and she poked it again. And again. And again. And again.

Sheppard watched her, pausing in-between a bite of a sandwich, "Gwen, don't play with your food."

Gwen peered at Sheppard over her knees, her finger poised. She didn't move for a moment, then sighed and picked up a spoon and began to eat the blue dessert, ignoring her sandwich. Sheppard considered telling her to eat her sandwich before dessert, but decided against it. Just as long as she didn't play with her food, he was happy.

Teyla smiled to herself, looking at Sheppard, then over at Gwen as the teenager stared at her food. The woman folded her hands under her chin, thinking. It hadn't happened overnight, but it was becoming clear; her team was becoming attached. Carson had also developed an affection, as shown by his 'mother hen routine', as Sheppard called it.

But, Teyla couldn't help a sinking feeling in her gut. Somehow she felt as if this was all temporary, that one day Gwen wouldn't be there anymore. But she had felt the same thing when she had met the Atlantis expedition, but they had not and she had joined them in their fight against the Wraith. This was one reason why she wanted to take Gwen with her to the mainland. If she deepened the bond, showed the girl she had a place here and was welcome, then there would be no good-byes.

A hand waved in her face and Teyla blinked, sitting back, "What?"

"You looked a bit dazed, there. You okay?"

Teyla smiled and nodded, "I am fine. I was just…thinking."

"Oh? About what?" Sheppard finished his sandwich in one bite.

Teyla thought for a moment. "I was," she looked over at Gwen, who had almost finished her Jell-O, but had gone back to poking it to watch it shake. Sheppard followed Teyla's eyes and once again told Gwen to eat and stop playing with her food.

"I was just thinking," Teyla said and stood. "If you will excuse me, I am tired."

"Okay," Sheppard said, "but you didn't answer my question. Mustn't have heard me when I asked."

"Could you repeat it then?"

"Can you believe Gwen almost beat Ronon?"

Teyla stood for a moment, then sat back down. She asked for John to explain what he meant. He told her, describing it in a manner that reminded her of a father boasting about his daughter. From the corner of her eye, however, she could see Gwen push her food away and bow her head, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. Strange. Turning her attention fully to Sheppard, she asked when he was done, "Does Doctor Weir know about this?"

"Not yet…I was going to tell her after I left her with Rodney."

Nodding once, Teyla stood, "Well, I think…there is much we have to learn." Gwen lifted her head and looked at Teyla, a strange look in her eyes. With a nod to Gwen, Teyla retired. Gwen watched the woman go, then touched her scabbed lip in thought. These people…she did not understand them.

"Come on, kiddo," Sheppard said, "Time you went to annoy McKay."

Gwen looked up as Sheppard gathered up the food and plates upon the tray and motioned to her to come. She stood immediately, not wanting to be by herself in this room with so many strange people who kept staring at her. She hated those stares. It was too much like…like…_them_. She followed Sheppard like a loyal dog and once he had taken care of the tray, she latched back onto his arm. He patted her head and they started for the labs. Gwen took careful note of everything they passed.

As she kept herself close, Gwen's red eyes dulled slightly. This place they called Atlantis…it had been so much like _that place_. There were people dressed in white and people with weapons, ready to harm her. She had been afraid; afraid of what new place of torment she had been thrust into, wondering where the others were, wondering why she was alone in this place all by herself. She had not understood, and understood even less when one of the people in white had yelled at the men with weapons to stop. He had been so kind…that wasn't right. That's not how it worked. Then there had been that big man, the one they called Ronon. He had chased her, trapped her, told her not to run, that he didn't want to hurt her. But that was a lie. That's all that ever happened and she had wanted to fight, but all she could do was fall to her knees and cry, passing out. Weak…she had been so weak. Weakness….

Then she'd awoken and there was a man there, talking to her. She didn't know about what, or why. But his voice…it had been soothing. And what had made it even more confusing was he had been afraid of her. Why should he have been afraid? It was the other way around. But the strangeness had been broken when she'd found herself tied and that was familiar, familiar and unwanted and frightening and terrible. She'd fought, only for that man in white to come back, the one she had hurt to escape, he came and he had helped calm her, _calm her_, and there was no malice, no anger, no ill will. She had hurt _him_ and he was worried about _her. Why?_

These people, these people who she had come to understand were her guardians, they had introduced themselves, they came and sat with her, they talked to her, they showed her things on screens to keep her entertained, introduced unknown foods that overwhelmed her senses. Why? Why would they do that? And that woman, Elizabeth, Gwen had felt the most unease from her, but the woman had released her from being tied and welcomed her to this place. What was more, and so mind boggling, they had named her. But names…names were…they were not for _her._ The tattoo on her neck, that was her, or that name _they_ gave her, to describe her…that was what she was, not Gwen…but, she was, and…and she didn't want to be anything except Gwen. She liked the feeling that came with the name.

But she had made a mistake, she knew she had. She had watched Sheppard and Ronon spar, fight with others and each other. She had watched and her entire body had ached to join them. The tips of her hair had tried to reach out and move, her very being was pulled and demanded to be in the midst of the sweat and grunts; to fight. Ronon had issued a challenge, asking if there was no one else and she had moved out of instinct to fight him. And the more she had fought, the more she longed for more until it had stuck her, struck her what her longing would eventually mean.

These people, Teyla, John, Ronon, Rodney, Carson, even Elizabeth who she saw only sparingly…they were all _safe_. This place, with all its people who stared at her, it was all _safe._ Here, here was good. Here she did not need to be in so much fear. Though they were still wary, she could sense it from them, it didn't matter. What mattered was...was that…she couldn't let go, couldn't go back, didn't want to go back. But…she was not 7345. She could not hide so well as he. It was only a matter of time before these people, these people who were her guardians, before they became _them._

They arrived at the lab Rodney was in and Gwen hid behind John at first, coming out only when she saw Rodney, who was passionately arguing with another person. She and John stood, watching the exchange of pure technobabble. After waiting for awhile, Sheppard coughed. Rodney and Radek looked away from each other, snapping at the same time, "What?"

Seeing who it was, Radek started to apologize, "Colonel Sheppard. I am sorry. I did not know it was you. Apologies."

Rodney had a different reaction, "What are you doing here?"

Sheppard nodded toward Gwen, "It's your turn."

"Oh, well…thanks. Now, go away."

"Mckay."

Rodney knew that tone, "What?"

"Next time, please make sure you tell me the important stuff, like Weir letting Gwen walk about the city."

"I didn't tell you? Hm, must have forgotten. Okay, sorry, bye now."

Sheppard sighed. Okay, fine…he'd get Rodney back later…perhaps something involving a fake lemon? Naw, too drastic. Maybe just hide his laptop. John patted Gwen's head, "Be good. Don't keep her here too long, McKay."

"Fine, fine, just go away. Gwen, sit down someplace."

Gwen went to the nearest stool, unsure of where else to go and hesitant to go near Rodney because of the other man, who, just like everyone else, was staring at her. She looked away, half listening to the two argue some more. Boredom set in and she entertained herself by playing with her braid. But even that didn't keep her occupied for long. Rodney and Radek had gone to their own projects by now. Gwen slipped down from her stool and went over to Rodney, looking over his shoulder at what he was working on. Mckay didn't seem to mind.

She stood there, watching for several minutes until something else caught her attention. Her pointed ears twitched and she stood up straight, looking over at where Radek was working. Curiosity over the sound trumped her nervousness of the new person. Slowly and quietly she made her way over, stopping just out of Radek's peripheral vision, her ears now clearly picking up on the sounds. She didn't understand them, didn't understand what it was she was hearing at all but...it was enchanting.

Radek turned around and jumped as Gwen step a step back, falling backwards, also in surprise. Zelenka looked at her. He did not like children. He looked over to McKay. The self-righteous…he'd sent the girl over to him, he knew it. It was revenge, he knew it was, because Radek had been right and Rodney had been wrong. He looked at Gwen, still on the floor, looking up at Radek, her unsettling red eyes wide.

"Why are you over here? Children should not be in lab. Go back to Mckay. I do not play babysitter."

Gwen did not move from the floor and scurry back to Rodney. Instead, she raised a hand, pointing one long, white finger at something on a table behind Zelenka. The Czech scientists turned, the looked at Gwen, then back to the radio. It looked like someone had left it on, but he could barely hear anything. Gwen was looking at it, then when she saw Radek looking at her she carefully lifted a hand and made it sway to the music, wriggling her wingers in time. He reached out and turned the music up a bit and Gwen's eyes widened. Radek was not sure what had been left playing, some sort of Gaelic music. Gwen looked at Zelenka. He pointed to the radio, "You want to listen?"

She nodded slowly.

Radek looked around, found a pair of earbuds and attached them to the radio. Gwen frowned as the music became quieter again. Zelenka looked at the girl and pointed a finger at her.

"I do not like children. Children should not be in lab. Many things to break. I do not play baby-sitter. You sit and listen. Put these in ears to hear music. Do not bother me."

He set the radio to play the CD on a continuous loop and left the earbuds on the table. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she stood and scooted around him to the table. She carefully moved a stool over to sit on, and then looked down at the earbuds. She picked on up, hearing the music coming out of it. Gwen placed it close to her hear, took it away, looked at it, then put it in her ear. She repeated to process with the other. Folding her arms on the table, she lay her head down upon them; closing her eyes, she listened to the enchanting sounds Radek had called music.

Rodney and Radek worked for the next few hours, Gwen completely forgotten. It was all the same to her. She was content to sit on the stool and listen to the music, her eyes closed as images came into her mind. It was all so beautiful, though she did not understand everything she was hearing. The CD repeated itself twice before Gwen drifted off to sleep.

She did not wake when Rodney finally decided to call it a night. McKay had tried to rouse her after removing the earbuds, but she would not wake. With a sigh, he picked her up, grateful she was so light. Gwen snuggled in, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. As he bid Radek goodnight, he carried Gwen back to the Infirmary, hoping he wouldn't get chewed out by Carson. He'd lost track of time, he was sorry, but the city would fall apart around their heads if it wasn't for him.

He arrived in the Infirmary, carefully laying Gwen down in her bed, removing her boots then tucking the sheets and blanket around her. He looked at her for a moment, at her pale skin and white hair. He blinked, looking at her a bit closer. Her skin…well, it was still ghostly pale, but her veins, they didn't seem to show through as much. Then again, it could have just been his imagination. He was tired. He patted her shoulder and turned to leave for his own quarters but that's when he ran into Carson.

As Beckett drug Rodney away to give him a piece of his mind for not having brought Gwen back sooner, the girl in question shifted in her sleep, rolling to her side as her mind continued to play the music in her mind.

* * *

Hn...not exactly what I had in mind. I had to rewrite some parts several times.

Thank you for my reviewers.

MuseUrania: Thank you. I'll go back and see if I can find those places and change 'per se'.

Cat in a box: Very good question. 'Will she learn to speak'. You know, I really don't know. Stay tuned and you'll find out when I do.


	4. Growth

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. No profit has been made from writing this. (Unless you count an excuse to drink lots of coke profit)_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_Growth_

Doctor Beckett patted the bed, "Come on now, love. Let's see how you're mendin'."

Gwen shook her head for the twentieth time, still pressed up against the wall, eyeing Carson warily. Both of her hands were on her side where she had been shot. Carson sighed and rubbed his neck. He had been trying to get her to let him look at it for almost a half hour, but she kept twisting and jerking away, keeping her hands on her side. By the way she acted, he could only assume it was hurting her and she didn't want it to be aggravated.

Carson tried a different approach. He started over to her, "Now, come on. I'll be gentle, just move your hands a bit."

Instead of twisting away again, she lunged forward, her teeth bared and snapped at him. Carson jumped back in surprise, truly caught off guard. She had not done something like that since she had first woken. He waved back a nearby nurse who was coming over to help. Gwen pressed herself back up against the wall and growled menacingly, keeping her teeth bared.

Folding his arms over his chest, Beckett said sternly, "Now, we'll be having none of that. We both know you won't hurt me. Now come over here and let me look."

She shook her head again and growled.

"If ye' don't let me check it, I won't let ye' leave."

Gwen eyed him, and then looked down at her side. She had seen him confine large men to the little beds. He was absolute ruler in this room. But was being able to leave the infirmary worth surrendering? She'd already made enough mistakes. This could be another, bigger one. She could feel her body awakening little by little. It wouldn't be long, she knew, before there was no more hiding, before they truly knew and then…she didn't know, but she knew she wouldn't be able to stay, not if she wanted to stay free. They fought the Wraith. They would use her.

Her moment of hesitation and thought took her attention from Carson. She looked up when she felt his hand on her shoulder and she growled, snapping at it with her teeth, almost grazing his skin. Beckett jerked his hand away, having a vision of standing in Weir's office tying to explain being bit by their strange guest.

Her eyes locked onto his, warning him to stay away. Carson stared right back, "Look, I know it hurts, but I can make it better if you just let me. Ye'll be fine, I promise. Trust me."

He held out a hand and Gwen stared at it. Slowly, she reached out her hand, and then hesitated, looking up at him. Her eyes roved over his face, searching, wishing different things had woken instead of others. She trusted him but, with this…it was different. He would have to tell and it would just be one step closer to the inevitable. Maybe, though, it was better to help the process rather than to draw it out. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt so much. If only she could _know_.

She stepped forward, slapping at his hand, and went over to the bed, jumping up onto it, much to Carson's surprise. Wasn't she in pain? She put one hand on the bed at her side, and the other she used to draw up her shirt just enough, turning her head away. Carson looked at the bloodstained patch. She must have broken it open during the night. The stitches had looked okay when he'd looked her over when Rodney brought her back, but perhaps they had been weakened when she was sparring with Ronon and he hadn't noticed. Carson had not been pleased to hear about that little exercise. Ronon was going to get an earful for certain. He patted her leg, letting her know it would be fine. Waving the former nurse over to now assist, he proceeded to remove the path carefully. It was only half off when Carson drew his hands away.

"My God."

He looked up at Gwen, who had her head still turned away, chewing on her split lip guiltily. Carson looked back at her side and stared, carefully removing the rest of the gauze and passed it to the nurse. The nurse took the padding, staring at Gwen's side as well.

"Put that in my office, will ye' Margaret?"

"Yes, Doctor," Margaret said, backing away to do as she was bid.

Carson ran his fingers over Gwen's side where her wound should have been, but wasn't. Instead, there was smooth, white skin with no indication she had ever had a bullet graze her side, or of stitches holding the wound closed. He also noticed as he looked at the rest of her skin, this area was solid white. The rest of her skin was still translucent, but in this area he could not see her veins. What was more, as he pressed his fingers more firmly to the area, her skin was warm. Carson ran his fingers over the skin of her stomach, which was cold as ice. Then he ran his fingers along the edge of where her wound had been, feeling a distinct line where on one side it was cold and on the other side, it was warm.

He pulled his hand back when Gwen slapped it and pulled her shirt back down. She slipped off the bed and tucked her shirt in firmly, then turned her red eyes upon the doctor. She didn't make a sound, but her words were fully conveyed by the look she gave him.

_Happy?_

She stalked away to a corner and sat down, closing her eyes. She seemed to be shutting out the world around her, but that was far from true. She could hear Carson press on his radio, hear him contact Doctor Weir and ask her to come down to the Infirmary. She could hear the nurse, Margaret, speaking in a hushed voice a room over with another nurse who often helped with Gwen. Though Gwen kept her back straight and shoulders squared, she wanted nothing more than to fold in on herself. Instead, she lifted a hand and rested her fingers on her split lip; she could feel it starting to throb.

Doctor Weir arrived in the med bay ten minutes later after clearing a team to go through the gate to MR4-95C. The blizzard had passed, but the video feed had shown the snow left behind was deep. Rodney was eager to get back, so she had sent a team through to make travel possible, as well as confirm the blizzard had indeed passed. If the blizzard came back, they would return immediately.

Upon entering, she saw Gwen sitting in a corner in a meditative position. She looked away as Beckett came out of his office. Weir met him, folding her arms, "You wanted to see me?"

"Aye," he motioned for her to follow him over to where Gwen was sitting. The girl looked up for a moment and Weir smiled at her. The teenager had been very cooperative over the past few days. There was hardly any sign of the violence of the first day save for small animal-like personality quirks. Elizabeth had been considering moving her out of the Infirmary to a room of her own, monitored of course, and preferably close to John's. Gwen had seemed to have latched onto the Colonel most of all.

Carson knelt down, "Gwen, would ye' mind showing Doctor Weir?"

Gwen shook her head once, firmly.

"Show me what?" Elizabeth asked, bending down to a crouch and looking at Gwen, then to Carson, worried. "Is there something wrong with her?"

Carson shook his head, "No, it's fine. Better than fine, actually. The bullet wound on her side is gone, completely healed."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye," he said, looking back at Gwen.

"Remarkable," Weir said, gently placing a hand on Gwen's shoulder. The girl flinched, looking at Weir with teeth bared, a silent promise of violence, moving her hands to scoot away, though she was already pressed close to the walls. "Are you sure I can't see?"

Gwen nodded firmly, and then stiffened when Weir's expression changed. Her eyes darted to Carson, seeing a similar look of fascination. Gwen swallowed, her eyes darting back and forth. What were…she placed her fingers to her lower lip. Oh.

"So, you not only possess fighting skills contrary to your physique, but an accelerated ability to heal." Elizabeth frowned and cocked her head, "But why did it take so long?" Gwen looked at her blankly.

Carson shrugged his shoulders, "I wish I knew. Her skin, though, where the bullet wound was healed, feels like it's at normal body temperature. And ye' can't see her veins."

Elizabeth bowed her head, biting her lip, then looked at Gwen. "You know what's happening to you, don't you?"

Gwen continued to only stare.

Elizabeth sighed, tucking a few strands of Gwen's hair behind an ear, "I wish you could talk to us."

Emotion came to Gwen's face, an expression that caught Weir off guard: Anger. The teenager's eyes flashed. Gwen slapped Weir's hand away, baring her teeth and snapping at the woman, pushing off from the wall and scrambling on all fours to get around the two adults. In a stooping run, the girl threw herself into Beckett's office, scuttling underneath Carson's desk. Elizabeth looked at her hand, the skin slightly red from being struck. She heard Carson sigh and she rose to her feet, rubbing the back of her assaulted hand.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I forget to tell ye'," the doctor said apologetically, "That's a bit o' a sore spot. People've been sayin' that to 'er nearly everyday. I think she's gotten weary o' it."

Weir continued to rub her hand, more out of musing than pain, "She understands us perfectly…do you think she can talk?" Elizabeth looked at Carson expectantly. They had had this discussion more than once; Weir already knew what answer he would give, yet she hoped it would be different.

Beckett could only shrug, looking toward his office, "I don't know, Elizabeth, I really don't know. There's nothing wrong with 'er throat. She's in perfect health asides from 'er weight and body temperature. I can only tell ye' what I've been tellin' ye; she might not know 'ow to talk, or she-"

"Just doesn't want to," Weir finished and sighed dropping her hands and clasping them behind her back. She turned to look toward Beckett's office. The girl was intelligent, childish and primal at times, but intelligent. She understood what they said, she had a growing trust for Sheppard, his team, and Carson. She had fighting ability, advanced ability as Sheppard had said when he'd recounted the incident with Ronon, and now they had discovered she had an accelerated healing rate. The girl's eyes betrayed her. Weir had been a negotiator for many years; she knew how to read people. The girl knew what was happening to her, and this lead Weir to believe that Gwen could talk, she was just choosing not to. The question, though, was why. Surely she had seen by now she was safe here, there was nothing for her to fear. Unless it had to do with that power source Rodney kept on about. What did the girl know? What was she? Why had she been in that stasis chamber? Who were those other people? What was the truth about the tattoo on her neck? There seemed to be more questions than answers.

It seemed to be a trend out in Pegasus.

"Ah, Elizabeth, there you are. Any news from the diggers yet?"

Weir and Beckett looked up as Rodney entered, unwrapping a power bar. "I just sent them through, Rodney. It's hardly been fifteen minutes."

"Oh, right, well…" He looked around the med bay, his brows knitting together. He turned around, then glanced back, "Uh…where's Gwen?"

Carson nodded toward his office, "Hiding underneath my desk."

"Why? You know what? Never mind, I do not have time for this." He stalked into the office, bending down, "Come on, I have lots of work to do and need to get this over with. Come on, get out here you." He snapped his fingers, seemingly oblivious to the fact Gwen was tucked into a tight ball under Carson's desk. She peered at Rodney over her knees. Rodney snapped his fingers again impatiently.

The teen crawled out from under the desk. Rodney stood and stuffed the rest of the power bar into his mouth, saying around it, "About time. Come on, I have work."

Rodney turned and started out of the Infirmary, Gwen grabbing hold of the back of his shirt tightly, following him out. Carson sighed, rubbing his neck tiredly. "Well," he said, looking at Weir, "I have things to do."

"Carson," Weir said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I think you should go get some sleep. You look awful."

"I just 'aven't trimmed me whiskers in a while."

"No, you're tired. Go get some sleep. Please?"

"Alright, for a wee bit," Carson said with a small nod of his head. Weir released his shoulder and the doctor started away, then he paused and turned, looking back at Weir. "Elizabeth…?"

"Yes Carson?"

The doctor pursed his lips, then smiled and shook his head, "Never mind…it's not important. I should sleep. Good night."

Elizabeth just smiled, not saying it was really morning.

---------------

The rest of the day Gwen spent following Rodney around. Ronon, Teyla, and Sheppard had themselves occupied preparing to leave for the mainland tomorrow. Teyla had wanted to just go by herself with Gwen, but Sheppard had said she needed a pilot, and why waste the Puddlejumper's gas by going back when he could stay? Ronon hadn't even given a silly reason, he had just informed Weir, Teyla, and Sheppard he was going and left it at that. After making it clear he had no intention of going, Rodney had ended up pulling baby-sitting duty all day.

Now Rodney McKay hated children, and reminded himself that, while they might be cute, they all grew up into incompetent adults. He had allowed his niece, Madison, to be an exception to some extent. Gwen, however, was in an entirely different ballpark. He wasn't sure _how_ to classify her. She could be considered a child, not only in age, but in actions. Another idea was to classify her as an animal, sometimes like a dog or a cat, the latter of which he liked, but she was too human. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was getting attached, or at least accustomed to her presence.

There was a gnawing in the back of his mind, however, that feeling of certain doom that had become a common companion in Pegasus. It wasn't the same dread that came before a brilliant solution, but the kind that came before he was sure he was about to be killed. He got that feeling sometimes when he looked at Gwen, but shook it off as irritability at not know who she was, what she was, but he knew better than to completely dismiss the feeling. Another feeling he couldn't dismiss was the feeling of being watched. The reason for this feeling, however, was explained a moment later as Gwen placed her chin on his shoulder, looking at the screen. She reached out and ran her finger over the screen, following the jumps of the various bars. Rodney grunted and slapped her hand.

"Stop that, you're going to leave streaks. You don't touch the screens, okay? No. Touching. The. Screen."

He felt her chin dig into his shoulder as he nodded. Her hand, the one he'd slapped, now rested on the counter, the sheet white flesh showing no sign of abuse. After a moment, she lifted her head and wondered away. Rodney turned his head to watch her. She moved around the lab, her fingers ghosting over the surfaces of the tables, the computers and keyboards, everything really, never actually touching anything. Gwen paused and looked over her shoulder, one thin, white eyebrow lifting in question.

"_No touching_," Rodney repeated, then turned back to his work.

The 'no touching' rule became boring after awhile. Gwen walked around the lab, looking, not touching, and looking at Rodney with sad eyes several times. He never seemed to notice. When wandering became dull, Gwen got down on the floor and crawled around, looking for anything that might be interesting. However, the novelty wore off quickly as there was nothing to find with which to entertain herself. She was bored and Rodney was ignoring her. Gwen sat up under the table she'd crawled under; the same one Rodney was sitting at. She looked around, frowning. This was a different lab from the one she'd been in last night. There were many labs, she had been in several while with Rodney, or with John sometimes. She knew she was going to be with Rodney all day, and that was okay. She liked Rodney, but she was bored. She wanted something to do…or listen to. He mind wandered back to the sounds, the words with the sounds she'd never heard before. There was a word for it, but she couldn't recall what it was.

Gwen crawled out from under the table and stood, tugging on Rodney's arm. He shrugged her off and she tried again and again until he slapped her hand.

"Not now, I'm busy. Here, eat this if you're hungry."

Gwen looked down at the power bar that had been forced into her hands. The girl looked at Rodney and narrowed her eyes. She wandered away, holding the bar. Her feet took her to the door and when she realized where she was, she paused. Gwen looked over her shoulder at Rodney. She was not supposed to go anywhere by herself. But it was boring in this room…and she knew where to go. Gwen took a step forward, and then paused, looking back at Rodney, hunched over his work. She took another and looked, then another, step, repeat, repeat…then she slipped out, walking carefully so her boots made no noise. She knew where to go.

She found where she wanted to go, but it had taken some time. Other people were in the halls and she had to hide from them. They would know she was breaking the rules. More than once she looked back, looking for Rodney or wondering if it would be better to return. Disobedience was wrong; you were punished and punished hurt. She wrung her hands but kept on. She wasn't wandering on her own, she knew where Rodney was and where she was going, so it would be okay. It would be okay. It would be okay.

When she reached to lab with the sounds, Gwen peeked around the corner. There were four people inside, two she had seen a few times and two more than once. She recognized the man with the wild hair and wire and glass on his face. He had said the name of the sounds. Radek, she knew his name when she saw his face. Rodney yelled at him a lot. The other person she recognized was a woman, with black hair and wire and glass on her face. Miko, Gwen knew her name; Rodney yelled at her to sometimes. The other two, one woman and one man, she did not know.

Her stomach churned and she griped the doorframe. Scared…this was scared. She wasn't supposed to be scared. She was supposed to be brave, courageous, no fear, violent, ruthless, no mercy, kill, no fear, no fear. She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply. She felt her cheeks flush, her heart start to pound with longing, with need. She forced the feelings down and let out a long sigh. She opened her red eyes, running her tongue over her dry lips. Disobedience…punished…pain…fight…disobey…rebel…last…safe. Safe. Gwen. Who was Gwen? She was Gwen. Gwen was different.

Gwen stepped into the room, her arms at her sides, trying to feel confident despite the feeling of dread deep in her stomach. Try. Gwen froze when Miko glanced up and saw her. She saw the woman's dark eyes look around and beyond Gwen, no doubt for Rodney. Gwen should be with Rodney, or John, or Teyla, or Ronon.

"Are you lost?" Miko asked after a moment, which caused Radek to look up and when he did, first there was a look of shock, then irritation. Gwen rooted herself, curling her hands into fists.

"Where is Rodney? He send you, yes?" Radek pointed a finger at her. Gwen shook her head. "He ask you to lie." Gwen shook her head, though she felt this was one of those thing called ret-or-e-cals. Radek came around the counter to her, reaching out to take her arm. Rodney was not going to make him play baby-sitter again. "Come, children do not belong in lab, you do not belong without McKay, you do not belong here."

Gwen moved away, keeping herself out of reaching. She hastily brought up her hands, tapping her ears with her fingers. Radek paused. Miko leaned forward, asking softly, "Is she ill?"

The place girl shook her head again, tapped her ears, the point around Radek. The four scientists followed her finger, and Radek understood immediately. He glanced sideways at Gwen, slightly suspicious. "Rodney did not send you?" Gwen shook her head. "You want to listen to radio?" Gwen nodded. Radek sighed, "You should not be without McKay."

"Perhaps the honorable Doctor McKay is very busy," Miko suggested, and Gwen nodded her head, agreeing with Miko. Radek disagreed, voicing this loudly. The other two scientists, however, took Miko's side, though not in a state of hero worship or suffering a crush. Truth of the matter was, they were merely curious about the girl, as the woman Gwen did not know came over and draped an arm around the teen's shoulders.

"If Rodney's too busy, then we'll look after her. There's no need to bother his 'important' work. We're doing him a favor."

"I do not know," Radek said.

"Come on, Radek, live a little."

"I am living, Simpson, see?" He inhaled, "I breathe. I live."

Dr. Simpson rolled her eyes and smiled, then turned to look at Gwen. "Let's ask you, how's that? Want to stay with us?"

Gwen looked from Simpson, to Radek, to Miko, to the other scientist whose name she still did not know. She bit her lip, looking at Radek. She felt Simpson pat her arm encouragingly. She looked over her shoulder, then back. Safe. She felt safe…and there was the radio. She nodded and Simpson shared a grin with Miko. Radek threw up his hands, muttering words Gwen could not understand. In a matter of minutes, Gwen was sitting on a stool, arms folded, her chin lying atop them, listening to the sounds, which was called music (she would remember this time), watching the four adults at their work. When hunger made her stomach growl, she pulled the power bar from her pocket, where she had stored it, only for it to be taken out of her grasp by Zelenka.

"If you stay, you eat real food. Simpson, Anderson, you watch Gwen. Miko, you help me. We bring food." He looked at the power bar, then tossed it into a nearby waste can. "Real food."

While Radek and Miko were gone, Simpson coaxed the headphones from Gwen's ears and Anderson brought over about twenty CD cases. Gwen's eyes widened and a small smile tugged at her lips. Simpson and Anderson argued over which one to put in. Gwen solved the problem by selecting a case with lots of color on it. Simpson put it in and Anderson remarked, "Should 'ave figured she'd like that Irish stuff, pointy ears and all."

Gwen reached up and touched her ears. She knew they were different, but they weren't too strange. John's were almost like hers, larger, but they were tilted and almost shaped like hers. Were her ears that strange, like her eyes and skin? She had noticed no one else was as pale as she, now had hair like hers, or eyes like hers. Carson had said she was what they called an albino; he'd said it made her special. She'd been called special before, she hadn't liked being special. When Carson had said it, it seemed okay, like a good thing. John said she was special too, as had Teyla. Ronon had called her strong once. Rodney…he just told her not to touch things.

Simpson placed her hand on Gwen's hand. The female astrophysicist smiled, "Hey, don't listen to him, he's an idiot. Your ears are just fine. I'll tell you a secret; when I was little, I wished my ears would look like that. Now, next time someone talks about those ears, you do this."

Miko and Radek returned just as Gwen had followed Simpson's advice and was sticking her tongue out at Anderson.

"Doctor Simpson, Doctor Anderson, do not teach strange girl bad habits."

Gwen closed her mouth, biting her lower lip. She bowed her head until Radek put a plate before her. She chanced a glance and Radek had an odd smirk on his face. Gwen furrowed her white brows in confusion. "If you learn bad habits," Radek said, handing the girl a fork, "do them to Rodney. He should not have forgotten you."

Simpson smiled, taking a sandwich over to her station, "This mean she can come back, Radek?"

Dr. Zelenka considered for a moment, then shrugged, "She does not make mess, does not make noise, very polite. I will talk to Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir."

"I thought you did not like children, Doctor," Miko said, pushing up her glasses.

"Gwen is not child. Gwen is mystery. I like mysteries. Eat food, do not bother me, much work to do. Chop chop."

Three hours later, Gwen was sitting atop the table with the radio, changing disks. The four scientists were working. After putting in a CD from a dark case, Gwen slipped down and wandered over to Radek. She liked the way he spoke and the way his hair stood out from his head. She couldn't put her chin on his shoulder, but he let her sit next to him, watching him type. The keys fascinated her, mostly the sounds and how pressing them made symbols pop up on the screen. Miko took it upon herself to guide Gwen over to a free laptop and set the teen up to type on her own. Gwen wasn't sure at first, being instructed to only touch a certain number of keys.

That was how Teyla found her a half hour later, sitting up straight and typing away, nodding her head and tapping the screen as if she were really working. She motioned for silence as she entered, walking up to Gwen and watching over the teen's shoulder. It did not take long for Gwen to sense being watched and she turned sharply. She swallowed and looked to the side. She was in trouble, she knew she was, or at least she thought she was.

"What have you been doing, Gwen?"

The girl looked up, confused. She looked around for help of sorts. Wasn't she in trouble?

"Gwen has been helping us work, Teyla," Simpson called from her chair, turning around, "She'd been very diligent."

Teyla smiled and looked at Gwen, "Is this true, Gwen?"

Again Gwen was unsure of how to respond.

"It is true," Radek supplied, folding his arms.

"She work very hard," Miko added.

"She also has a great taste in music," Anderson ended.

Teyla nodded, "I am glad. However, it is time to go. Colonel Sheppard is quite worried and you," she said looking at Gwen, "must be well rested for tomorrow."

Gwen frowned, looking at her 'work'. Miko assured the teen it would be saved and she could return later. Teyla took hold of Gwen's hand and led her back to the infirmary as she contacted Sheppard, Mckay, and Ronon on the radio, letting them know she had Gwen and she was safe. Once back in the infirmary, Teyla helped Gwen change and climb into her bed. A moment later, John and Ronon were there, as was Rodney, who was nursing his arm. Gwen found herself assaulted with questions and watching as Sheppard smacked Rodney upside the head.

Eventually Gwen was left to fall asleep, with Carson somewhere nearby. She was more than a little confused. It seemed only Rodney was in trouble. She understood he was supposed to have watched her, but why wasn't she also in trouble? Gwen sighed and closed her eyes. She'd enjoyed herself.

But she still didn't understand these people.

* * *

Well, here we go, chapter 4...realy, really late.

I wasn't sure if I should have gone on, which was why I stopped. Sorry to those who have been following. I got two reviews though, after I stopped. I became a little worried after I noticed there were some others of a simiar nature, but I got over it, obviously. This will be different...I hope. I don't know as I haven't read them. Anyway,sorry this chapter is junk. The next one will be better. I hope. Oh, bah, just enjoy or laugh at me, I don't care. I'll just unleash animalGwen on you.


	5. Mainland

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. If I did, I would not be able to get away with being tardy._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_Mainland_

"And this is a Puddlejumper," Sheppard said, turning around, placing his hands on his hips, a goofy smile on his face. "Pretty cool, huh?"

As expected, no verbal response came from the pale teenager, but she smiled in response, unable to nod her head. She was seated upon a couple crates, sitting still while Teyla finished braiding up her long hair. She looked paler than normal, dressed in a black T-shirt and the dark blue pants. Her skin, though, was no longer transparent, not in that unhealthy way it had been since they'd found her. It looked rather normal, normal for one with no skin pigmentation. She was also warmer to the touch; it was like touching a cool window pane rather than an ice cube.

"Well, how are we doing?"

"Gwen's getting herself all gussied up, then we're going," Sheppard said as Weir entered the Jumper bay.

"Thank you, Colonel," Weir responded. Clasping her hands behind her back, she glanced over at the girl, "I hope you enjoy yourself."

The teen gave Weir a nod after Teyla patted her shoulder, letting her know the braiding was complete. Elizabeth glanced at Sheppard and her lips pursed slightly. He took a breath, then clapped his hand, "Okay, Gwen, why don't you head on in there and pick a seat? We'll be right in."

A moment's hesitation, Gwen looked at Elizabeth, John, and Teyla. Pulling her braid around to the front, she held it in her hands as she went into the Jumper as instructed. Elizabeth stepped forward, folding her arms over her chest. Sheppard stepped forward as well, holding up his hands. "Before you ask, yes we have the sedatives and Ronon has his gun. We'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will."

Ronon arrived then, adjusting his coat, holding a black, duffle bag in his left hand. Sheppard smiled, "Well, if that's all."

Weir nodded, "Have fun."

"Oh, we will."

"Dr. Weir," Teyla said, "I have something to give to you." Ronon and Sheppard boarded the Jumper while Teyla picked something up off the crates Gwen had been sitting upon. Turning, Teyla passed the object to Weir.

"A…power bar?"

Teyla smiled, "Gwen was asking for Rodney earlier and was…distressed when I told her he had left. She wanted to give that to him."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, "She was _asking_ for him?"

"Yes…in a sense, not in words."

"Ah…well, I'll give it to him."

"Thank you. We will see you in a few days, Doctor Weir." Teyla turned to enter the Jumper, but paused after a few steps. She glanced over her shoulder, "And please tell Carson not to worry. We will take good care of her."

Elizabeth nodded, a small smile on her lips as she watched Teyla enter the Jumper and the ship begin to rise a few moments later. Carson was the most worked up over this, even though he thought it would be good for the girl. If he had been able to go, he would have been on the Puddlejumper as well, but prior commitments and responsibilities were keeping him there in Atlantis. John was right when he called Carson a 'mother hen'. Glancing down at the power bar, Weir turned and left the Jumper bay. She had an idea to keep Carson occupied. Gwen had been in Atlantis for…how long? Elizabeth couldn't remember exactly. It almost seemed like she'd always been there.

---------------

Shortly after leaving the Jumper bay, it became clear they were not heading to the mainland. Ronon noticed first as Teyla had her attention on Gwen. It seemed odd how calm the teen was, sitting up straight and stiff in her seat, eyes forward and shoulders back. Her hands rested in her lap, one on each leg, and her feet were pointed forward. It was a position she had seen many of the marines adopt when they sat. The only thing contrary to the militaristic way the girl sat was how her head twisted and tilted, and her eyes darted around, looking out the window. John made a pass around Atlantis, and Gwen looked over at Teyla, and pointed out, her expression questioning. Teyla smiled, "That is Atlantis from the outside. It is home."

Teyla watched in silent amusement as Gwen moved her mouth, mimicking the word 'home'. She looked very much like a fish. Sheppard turned the Jumper and it rose in the sky, higher and higher until Ronon grunted, "I don't think the settlement is in space, Sheppard."

"I know…we're taking a little detour."

"Colonel?" Teyla queried, leaning forward to look Sheppard.

"Don't worry…" he said as they left the planet's atmosphere, entering space. He flew a ways before turning the ship around to face the planet, now just a brilliant sphere in the blackness of space, distant suns studding the area around it. Sheppard looked over his shoulder and motioned for Gwen to come over. Gwen stood hesitantly, looking at the strange new sight, not able to comprehend what she was seeing. She stopped beside Sheppard's chair and he wrapped his arm around her side, pointing with his other.

"That's where you live." He looked up at her and Gwen glanced down, her head shaking slightly in confusion. Sheppard removed his arm and used both his hands to explain. "It's called a planet. Atlantis is on a planet. See those twinklies out there, those are the stars. This is what home looks like from space, what those stars see when they look at us."

Gwen glanced back at the screen, her head cocked. Slowly, she nodded her pointed to the planet as she glanced at John, her mouth forming the word 'home'. Sheppard smiled, "Yeah, home. Cool, huh?"

Gwen had come understand what was meant by 'cool' and she smiled and nodded. 'Cool' she mouthed and looked back at the planet. 'Home'…the young woman looked at the planet, the word running through her mind. 'Home' was such a big word….

---------------

The mainland itself brought its own sense of wonder and experience. Once the door was opened, Teyla led the way, followed by Sheppard and Gwen, the latter attached firmly to the former's arm, and Ronon bringing up the rear bearing the black duffle bag. Gwen looked all about her, to the blue sky, to the trees, and down to the grass and dirt. None of this stuff grew on Atlantis, not on the ground anyway. She was only able to recall a hazy memory of being in a place like this. That's how things were for her now, hazy memories rather than just feelings. Few were her whole recollections, and they frightened her. She knew it was just a matter of time until everything was there; all the memories, and all the desires.

They walked toward the settlement, Sheppard having landed some distance away. He and Teyla were taking turns telling her about the people, the plants, just about everything to prepare her for what to expect. She was no listening, though. Her eyes kept looking around as she kept herself pressed against Sheppard's arm. She wasn't so sure anymore. She felt John pat one of her hands, squeezing it lightly. It was a reassuring gesture and she pressed her face into his shoulder and sighed deeply.

In a short time they had arrived. Gwen watched in fascination as many called greetings and several came up for personal hellos. She watched as Teyla touched foreheads with many, as did John despite Gwen hanging onto his arm and peeking out over his shoulder. Ronon stood stoically, a bit behind, watching in silence and Gwen had a desire to go and cling to Ronon, hiding behind him instead. Instead, she let her reddish eyes wander up as a tall man came forward to greet Teyla, his face fuzzier than Ronon's. With him were two boys, both appearing to be around Gwen's age. The albino girl stared at them, unsure of what to think. They didn't look like-

"Teyla," the man said, touching foreheads with the Athosian leader.

"Halling," Teyla responded with a smile, "It has been many days."

"Too many, we have missed you. Is this the child of whom you spoke?"

"Yes," Teyla said with a smile, turning to Gwen. The Athosian motioned toward Halling, "Gwen, this is Halling. This is his son Jinto and this is Wex, Jinto's friend. This is Gwen."

"Hello Gwen," Jinto said with a smile and Wex nodded his own greeting. Gwen looked up at Teyla, then to Sheppard and Ronon, uncertain of what she was supposed to do. She'd been told these people were friends, but as she peered beyond the three, farther into the village, there were many more people, old and young, and some were on their way over. Gwen gripped John's arm. So many people….

"You know," John said, patting Gwen's hand as he looked at Teyla, "I think we should skip former introductions and get right to the games."

Teyla lifted an eyebrow, unable to speak as Jinto and Wex perked up. "What kind of games, Colonel?" the youth asked eagerly.

"Oh, I dunno…maybe if you guys go and round up some people and meet me, Ronon, and Gwen in the meadow, you'll find out."

The boys rushed away, nearly tripping over each other in their haste. Sheppard smiled in a smug fashion and Teyla cocked her head to the side, "Colonel, I do not believe this to be a wise course of action."

"Look," the Colonel said, "I don't think personal, one-on-one introductions are in order. I currently can't feel anything below my elbow, she's gripping my arm that hard. A little game will bring everyone together and she won't be put on the spot. She'll meet people, they'll meet her, and we'll all have a lot of fun. Now, you both are welcome to play, or you can watch. Trust me Teyla, I know what I'm doing."

"This could overwhelm her."

"It'll be fine. It's just a little friendly game, everyone will be running around having a good time. If she can sit in a room with a bunch of geeks she doesn't know or want to help Ronon beat up a bunch of large marines, I think she can handle this."

"Have you ever had a child, Colonel? The setting and situation has changed. She coul-"

"Hey," a deep voice intoned. John and Teyla turned to glanced at Ronon, who had the duffle bag in one hand and Gwen's in the other. Sheppard glanced down at his arm, having not felt Gwen releasing him from her death hold. His fingers were all tingly and he clenched and unclenched his hand. "Gwen and I are going to set up. You two can keep bickering."

Stoically, Ronon moved off, Gwen holding his hand with both of hers, walking besides, yet slightly behind. Teyla and Sheppard shared a glanced as Halling chuckled. "It would appear there is a conflict no longer." Halling smiled and bowed his head a bit, "You will excuse me, I wish to watch these games." Halling passed by the two teammates and followed Ronon and Gwen. Further discussion was cut short as other Athosians came up to greet their leader after her long absence. John pantomimed he was going to the meadow and jogged away, catching up with Halling.

Roughly twenty minutes later, all the children old enough to walk, the youths, and a handful of adults and spry elderly were gathered in the meadow, nearly thirty people in all. The area was large, about the size of a regular soccer field. The grass was short, ankle-height, with many patches of dirt scattered about. A wide path lead to the meadow, about thirty yards away from the Athosian settlement. Trees and bushes surrounded the meadow, a river located nearby. Around the edge of the meadow nearly all others from the village had gathered, some sitting on the ground, others in trees or rocks of fallen trees and stumps, while others simply stood. Teyla had chosen to sit with Halling, to observe the games, while Sheppard was in the thick of things, now the possessor of the duffle bag.

"Okay people, here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to play nice, we're gonna play fair, and we're gonna have fun. Second, we're gonna divide into two teams, not that I think it'll last, but we're gonna do it anyway. Third, this is Gwen, Gwen, this is everyone. Now, let's get ready for some football!"

Ten minutes later, after a bit of confusion regarding who would be on which team (Sheppard had ended up on his own against Ronon and Gwen, which he said was very unfair) a game of impromptu football began. It was far from legal and would have made any NFL referee, coach, player, and die-hard fan cringe. But it was hard to follow the proper rules when your players ranged from ages 5 to 80. Official rules were made even more difficult as some payers left the field and others jumped in without announcement. John was correct when he said teams would not last as it slowly turned into an 'every man for himself' sort of game.

Gwen and Ronon were an exception to the rules. In the beginning, Gwen stayed near the muscular man, ducking behind him and running in his wake, unable it seemed to get into the spirit of things. Then she'd caught the ball after a wild and highly erratic throw. People began to rush her and, thoroughly at a loss of what to do, she'd just stood there until they had come close, reaching and diving. Gwen instinctually jumped over them. Teyla's breath caught in her throat, covering her mouth with her hand. It was an inhuman leap, more like one of which a Wraith was capable. Halling by this point had rushed into the game to help his son, unable to remain on the sidelines. Needless to say, Gwen leap had shocked the meadow into stillness as eyes stared at her incredulously and suspiciously. Gwen had taken a step back, holding the ball, looking for Ronon or John or Teyla to conceal herself behind. Instead, she felt her shirtsleeve tugged upon by a five year old girl with tanned skin and black hair.

"You need to run," she said and started to pull Gwen away from the group toward one of the 'End Zones'. A few feet brought everyone seemingly to their senses as the little girl's parents began to shout for their child and the new teenager. Gwen looked over her shoulder to see some trying to hold back other runner's, shouting for Gwen and the little girl, whose name was Xia, to run faster. Gwen paused on the field, handing the football to Xia, then picked the girl up in her arms and darted toward the End Zone. Xia waved the ball in the air, tauntingly, laughing gleefully.

A score was made in the end, Gwen setting Xia on the ground, where the girl threw the ball at the ground, watching it bounce up into the air. Gwen was crouched, watching the ball fly up and come down, caught by an Athosian woman. Gwen went to stand, yet was stopped as Xia showed her appreciation by throwing herself at the albino, arms going around Gwen's neck in a happy hug. There was a moment of hesitation on Gwen's part. She'd managed to keep her balance, but was far from certain as to what to do with the child latched around her neck. After considering, Gwen wrapped her arm around Xia, squeezing just a bit. This seemed to please the little girl and she pushed herself away.

"You can eat with my family tonight." She ran off, declaring over her shoulder, "I will tell Teyla!"

The teen watched the little girl run off, oblivious to the chaos on the field. Sheppard had the ball and was brought down heavily by Ronon, who literally fell onto the smaller man and smashed the air from Sheppard's lungs. The ball flew into the air and Jinto leapt up, catching it in his hands and landing behind Wex and his father, both of whom were serving as his guards. Jinto darted around his father, slipping past several hands until he was caught in strong hands. Jinto yelled out as he began to laugh as the hands tickled him into dropping the ball. A stray foot kicked it away towards the edge of the field where it was scooped up into the withered hands of an older woman, no more than mid sixties.

"Care to help an old woman, child?" the old woman called to Gwen. The teen looked up, pulled from her contemplations and ran to the elder. The woman smiled, "Let us show those mad pups age is not a barrier!"

Gwen smiled and guarded the woman back across the field, unknowingly avenging John as she took out Ronon, shoving him hard in the abdomen, which sent him crashing backwards, the wind knocked from his lungs. Jinto and Wex joined the struggle to defend the older woman.

The game itself carried on well past dark. Some of those who had remained behind in the village came to the meadow, banging on pots and pans and ringing bells, calling the competitors back for supper. Gwen found herself separated from Teyla, John, and Ronon, being guided back to camp instead by Xia.

"That was a lot of fun, was it not, mother? Father?" Xia asked, looking up at her parents with bright eyes and a toothy grin.

"Yes, it was," Xia's mother laughed as she attempted to rub some of the dirt from her husband's face. Gwen had had a smile on her face, feeling pleased and pleasantly tired and hungry. However, the smile faded as she looked over her shoulder, into the darkness at the meadow now illuminated by the moons.

She had never known 'fun'. She had heard the word, but not really understood what it meant, what it was, and why the word was typically said with a smile. Gwen looked away, her pointed ears twitching as Xia began to rattle off on various topics, all of which were intended to inform Gwen of one thing or another, thinking to herself she would like to experience 'fun' many more times…or at least, just once more, before it was too late.

* * *

Speaking of being 'too late', I apologize for taking so long to update. This chapter was a pain to write, wasn't sure what all I wanted to stick in, too much, too little, not right, too soon, etc. It is short compared to the other, apologies, but it gets the job done. More next chapter, promise. Also, special shout to royleen, who sent me a lovely message telling me to get my butt in gear. I did say I would get it up sometime this month and barely made it. All the same, I still apologize for the lateness. Enjoy, more next time, might even drop in on Rodney.

Also, does anyone know how many moons Atlantica has? I can't find anything and I couldn't see any on the DVDs. Thanks for the help on that.

And third, I have my final exams this week, so come the weekend I will have about 2 to 3 weeks until summer semester. Hopefully I'll get more chaps up in that time. Anyway, enjoy.


	6. Coming Storm

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. This is written for fun. (And if I did own it, the series would not be ending and this chapter would have been up a LOOOOOOOONG time ago.)  
_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_Coming Storm_

Doctor Meredith Rodney McKay felt a cold shiver run up his spine, spreading down every nerve of his body until he shuddered uncontrollably. The sensation lasted but a few moments, yet all the same, it felt as if a sudden weight had settled upon him. He felt depressed and frightened, nervous and like passing out. The man brought his hands up to rub his arms, to chase away the cold he felt, his shoulders hunching as if it would preserve warmth though he felt none.

"Barbaric," he uttered to himself. He stood alone in the Pit, the place in the cave wherein all the torturous devices were. Rodney had his team hard at work, gathering data, packing and labeling what they could to take it back to Atlantis to be examined and tested. They had to move fast as time was short. A path had been cleared to the cave, but an aerial survey had shown another snowstorm was on its way. Rodney and his team had under a day to gather and record, pack and transport, before they were all stranded for an unknown amount of time. Yet despite the need for urgency, Rodney had felt a need to climb down into the Pit and stand there, looking at everything. Being so close he could see places were the stone was discolored, darker than the rest of the rock. It didn't take his impressive brain to know those discolorations were caused by some sort of fight from long ago. From what he had managed to gather from the pictorial data on one of the consoles, the Pit was a sort of Gladiatorial arena.

"She lived here," Rodney breathed to himself, shuddering again as his overactive imagination conjured up images of Gwen in this hole. For a moment, he thought he saw her fighting against some ravenous beast. She was holding onto one of the mace-like weapons and swung at the creature. The beast caught it in its jaws and shook its head. Gwen crashed into the solid wall and Rodney thought he saw her blood streak down the smooth surface, staining it until the wall crumbled to dust. Then Rodney turned his head, the beast now looking at him in a hungry fashion. Rodney took a step back in fear as the creature stepped forward, jaws opening to show its large, kni-

"Doctor McKay!"

"What?!" Rodney snapped as he whirled around, hoping it had been a sharp snap instead of a squeak from being startled from a terrible daymare. He didn't know where that image had come from, nowhere at all. Dear God, this room didn't have some sort of filters that made a person see things did it?

"We've run into a problem with one of the consoles. It won't let us take any of the data."

Rodney mumbled under his breath at his subordinate, a blond haired man who looked like he should be back on Earth in California with a surfboard rather than here in another galaxy being incompetent. "I'm coming," he muttered exasperated, hiding his gratefulness for the interruption. He made his way over to the edge of the pit and clambered up the rope ladder the science team had brought with them. There was no other way out of that Pit without it, not unless they all had Superman legs.

Once out of the Pit, McKay grumbled as he followed his underling to the apparently stubborn console. Rodney half-listened and half-ignored the young scientist as he gave a pointless reiteration of 'It won't work'. The obvious wasn't what McKay was interested in, but more so the 'why' and the eventual, and inevitable now he was on the case, of 'how' to get the data. They were working on a tight schedule and no where close to locating the power source. In actuality, the energy readings he had picked up before, which had led them to Gwen, had dimmed. It led him to the conclusion what he'd been reading was her life-pod and the power source mentioned in the data was, in fact, turned off. It made logical sense, of course, given it seemed to be pretty big and important, it wouldn't be smart to leave it on so just anyone could detect it and take it. Gwen must have been some sort of guard, but that still left them with two important questions. One: Where was the power source and two: where were the people who'd built it? The second was a question better suited for the anthropologists than the physicists; Rodney was far more concerned with the first question than the second.

Ten minutes later, followed by a bit of justified crowing on his intellect, Rodney left the younger scientist to download the data from the uncooperative consol. It was always the easiest things which stumbled those under his command; the Surfer-wannabe just failed to notice he'd crossed his wires and had attached them to the wrong crystals. What would the science team do without him? Blow themselves up most likely. There were some that just seemed to want to push every single button within reach regardless of what it may do.

The thought of buttons turned Rodney's thoughts to a small device in his pocket. Pausing by the life-pods, he pulled it free and held it in the palm of his hand. The device was small, about the size of a half dollar, oval in shape and dark blue in color with a purplish depression on the center. The depression felt like solid goo; basically all it did was push down deeper when he pushed his thumb into it. It seemed to serve no purpose at all, which was confusing given it had been found among some less-than-friendly surgical instruments. If anything, it acted like one of those stress balls, and Rodney knew he sure could have used one. Under a day to download and pack and-

"Hey! Be careful! Would you go dropping your mother's antique china like that?!"

The device was pocketed as McKay stormed toward two of the marines that had been volunteered to help move some of the mobile, but heavy, equipment. They weren't new recruits recently dropped from one of the Daedalus; they had been there for some time and had grown used to hearing the Canadian berate anyone and everyone. They stood in passive silence, nodding and shaking their heads where appropriate, which only served to irritate Rodney further.

---------------

The coming storm moved in faster than expected as the science expedition found themselves battling the growing wind and first signs of snowfall. Equipment and supplies had been loaded onto two F.R.E.D.s. One group of marines brought up the rear while the other lead the way to the Stargate, Major Lorne in the lead with McKay close by. Despite the wealth of information they were able to download and equipment they were able to gather, there was some disappointment among the group as they traveled back to the gate. No secret doors or rooms were found, no panels in the floor or walls, absolutely nothing had been found besides the apparent two rooms in the cave. They had the data, but the power source was still out of their grasp.

McKay dialed the gate and after the wormhole was established, Lorne sent his IDC. "Come on home, Major," Weir said into Lorne's ear and the Major signaled for the group to move forward into the gate. Rodney and Lorne were the last to leave, the Canadian shivering in his thick coat. The winds were blowing stronger and the snow was falling as an alarming rate. This seemed to not matter to the scientist as he stared into the white, where he knew the path once lie to the cave. Atlantis needed a ZPM, anything really, and he knew one, at least one, was somewhere in that cave. He just had to find it!

Any thoughts of self-pity or frustration at his failure were cut short as Lorne shouted something incoherently into the wind and practically threw McKay into the event horizon.

Stumbling through to the other side brought relief from the cold. Lorne and Rodney joined the others as they shook themselves free of snow, a carpet of white already melting upon the warm floor. Rodney shrugged out of his gloves, rubbing his nose and face furiously with his hands. He was going to catch a cold, he just knew it. And he would need to check for frostbit; he was certain he couldn't feel his toes. Or his ears now that he thought about it. He looked at his hands hurriedly, for any sign of purple or worse. He was going to need a hot bath and some coffee-

"I thought Canadians were used to the cold," Lorne jibed as he watched Rodney. "But, then again, I'd also heard all Canadians were so polite you wanted to kill them."

Rodney glared at the other man, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." He stalked off toward Weir as she came down the stairs, deciding to ignore Lorne completely for the rest of his natural life. And if he couldn't do that, he'd just see to it the Major's shower malfunctioned to only shoot out arctic-like temperatures. It was a soothing thought, one which caused a satisfied smirk to cross his lips.

"Good news, Rodney?" Weir asked, noting his expression as she trotted down the stairs.

"Hmm, what?" McKay asked, pulled from his thoughts of vengeance. "Oh…I don't know yet. We were able to download most of the information."

Weir noted the crates and boxes being carted away, "Bring back some new toys as well?"

"Mmmm…you could say that. Hopefully I'll be able to shed some light on the missing power source."

Weir nodded, "Let us hope so."

"Yes, well, I have a lot of work to do, so if you will excuse me 'Lizabeth…."

"Of course, Rodney, we'll debrief in a hour." She watched as the man walked purposefully after the precious cargo. Folding her arms across her chest, Weir turned to jog back up the steps, then paused, whirling around. "Rodney!" She trotted back down the steps and McKay came to her.

"What?"

He was clearly irritated, but holding his tongue. Weir reached into her pocket, pulling out a powerbar. She held it out toward Rodney, who took it with a quizzical expression on his face. Weir smiled, "Gwen wanted to give this to you, but you left before she did."

"…she did? Huh…." Rodney stared at the powerbar for a moment, then deftly slipped it into his coat pocket, "Well then, thank you, I'll just, uh, be going now…an hour then debrief. Right…." He turned on his heel and walked quickly away toward the labs. The cold of his limbs forgotten momentarily, he brushed his jacket where the powerbar rest. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about the gift.

Children.

---------------

Rodney was growing increasingly frustrated, munching furiously on a ham sandwich. It was worse than he had anticipated. The data they had been able to download was, not only encoded, but spread out in such an insane manner it was difficult to figure out what went with what. Either whoever did this was vastly paranoid, or a lot more was missing than he had thought. Some data was irretrievable; the natural decay of the cave around the computers had destroyed enough to be of concern. The consol which overlooked the death pit had been the most difficult to salvage. Rodney supposed they had maybe 20, 30% of the whole.

The astrophysicist ran his hands down his face. This wasn't easy, not by a long shot. The decoding was the easy part once they'd figured out the code, which hadn't taken very long considering Rodney had had enough to work with during his wait for the blizzard to pass. But the decoding still took time, and then it all had to be pieced together, and the fragments he had didn't go together. There were huge gaps; one bit spoke of a power source, another of the successful destruction of a Wraith Hive, and a third made mention of inconclusive results pertaining to subjective cold temperatures over an extended period of time. There were hardly any complete sentences, just quick, jotted notes.

Radek typed away at his own computer, looking just as flustered and tired as Rodney. There had been plenty of volunteers to assist with the data, mostly those hoping to learn something about Gwen's shrouded past. Rodney had dismissed all but Radek, Miko, Simpson, and Anderson. One he trusted to do the work for the work, the other three he trusted to be intimidated enough to focus and be motivated for more reasons than just Gwen. Though, he had to admit, he was curious himself, but his desire to locate the power source overpowered that desire. The city needed power more than they needed to know Gwen's birthday.

"This makes no sense to my brain," Radek announced, slumping backward in his chair, letting his arms dangle at his sides. "How do you find such troublesome puzzles, Rodney?"

"I'm talented," Rodney spoke through his hand plastered to his face. He let his hand drop and sighed, "We've been at this, what, 12 hours? It's not going anywhere fast."

"How do you talk about genetic engineering in one sentence and in the next, talk about the exploding of Wraith Hive?"

"I have no idea," Simpson interjected from her seat, "but what I do know is we should probably follow the examples of Anderson and Miko."

Rodney peered around his computer screen to where his two subordinates. Miko was slumped in her chair over her keyboard, breathing deeply, while Anderson was sprawled in his chair, mouth open, drooling and snoring simultaneously. Talented.

McKay leaned back in his chair, playing with the little something he'd found at the cave, his thumb pressing up and down on the gel-like center. "Simpson, wake Anderson and Miko up and go to bed. You too Radek."

"You need rest, Rodney," Radek chided.

"And I'll go to bed in a bit. I want to go through the other stuff we brought back and hopefully find a key to putting all this in sequential order. Otherwise, we'll have to wait for Teyla to bring Gwen back, and we all know how talkative she is."

Hesitantly, Radek helped Simpson wake Miko and Anderson, then guided the three out of the lab, giving Rodney a pointed glance. Once the lab was empty, McKay put his feet up on the table and played with the stress reliever. It made no sense, but he was slowly coming to three theories to explain the massive mess. Theory 1: It was all jumbled up and needed to be reorganized. Theory 2: It was in order, but massive amounts were missing. Theory 3: It was in order and most of it was there, they just didn't know how it all linked together. After all, what did genetic manipulation have to do with an explosion of a Wraith Hive? What did subarctic temperatures have to do with the power source? And where was the blasted thing anyway? In all they had, the source of power they desperately needed was always alluded to, never mentioned straight out, not even one single sentence. But it was of great power, a fantastic source of energy, all he needed to do was find it.

Letting his feet fall to the floor, the Canadian stood, stalking to the other side of the lab where they had placed and clearly labeled the artifacts they'd brought back with them. Rodney picked up a slate slab found in the room and sat down on the floor with it. He had to start somewhere. The answer had to be right in front of him. He just couldn't see it.

---------------

"Where's your parents?"

Gwen stared blankly at Xia. The albino girl was seated around a fire with Xia and her parents. Her legs were crossed Indian style, a bowl of soup held in one hand and a spoon in the other. Teyla, John, and Ronon were similarly seated around the fire as well, having joined the family for supper after locating their young charge. Since leading her off the field, Xia had taken it upon herself to tell Gwen everything about the village, the people, what they did, what they ate, where they hunted, what she was learning, even about how she lived on Atlantis for a little while before the Athosians had moved to their new home. Gwen listened with apparent fascination, sitting with Xia while her mother had prepared the meal.

Now the conversation had turned to Gwen and the albino paused, looking at Xia with confusion. She turned to look at her keepers, not understanding the question. Teyla leaned forward, addressing Xia. "We do not know, Xia. We rescued Gwen from a stasis pod, a bed where she slept for a long time. It is possible her parents are dead."

"Oh," Xia said, taking a bite of her soup, satisfied with the answer, but, as happens with young children, she had more questions. "So how old is she if she slept for a long time? Why's her skin so white, like the moons? How come her eyes are red? Why doesn't she say something? Does she like the soup? How long is she staying here?"

Teyla chuckled, "So many questions. There are many I cannot answer, young one, but I can tell you we will be leaving tomorrow afternoon and it does appear she enjoys the soup."

Gwen smiled and lifted her bowl, nodding. Yes, she understood that question, and it was very good. The young woman bowed her head, eating in silence as Xia rattled off with Teyla, apparently satisfied for the time being about the mysterious Gwen.

After the meal, Xia was carted off to bed. The little girl gave their guests each an embrace. She'd lingered at Gwen. "I hope I see you again, I like you, even though you don't talk. Bye!" Gwen waved farewell to the small child (waving was the appropriate response after all), watching as Xia's mother took hold of her hand. Gwen watched them go, watched as Xia paused to hug and kiss her father good night, as her father poked Xia's nose to make her laugh and tussled up her hair. Gwen looked away, rubbing her chest. Silent as always, the girl stood and made her way outside, into the cool night air.

The moons were at their peak, shiny brightly on her already pale skin. Gwen folded her arms as she stared at the moons, biting down on her lip. Parents…what were parents, she wondered. It seemed parents were two people, one called 'Father' and one called 'Mother'. She watched a family pass by, three boys running around two adults, Gwen watched as the man took hold of the youngest lad, chiding him. The woman placed her hand upon the man's arm, soothing his irritation and taking hold of the boys' hand. Gwen understood; the man was Father and the woman was Mother. She had seen the same when they were playing football…and Gwen had first been introduced to a Father and son. But how did one go about having parents? This she did not understand.

Who where her parents? John and his team, they were her keepers, her guardians, not parents. And, one could only have two parents…if they were her parents would that make Teyla 'Mother'? And who would be 'Father'? She felt the safest with John…but Carson was always very kind. What made parents….

Family, that was another small word with just a large…it made her feel…why couldn't she string her thoughts together? Why did there feel to be such a great weight on her shoulders? Why was she the only one left alive? She was not the survivor…she had been…she was the one who was supposed to….

"Gwen?"

The girl jumped, whirling around in surprise. Her thoughts, emotions, and memories had dulled her senses. Her lip twitched in irritation. That was unacceptable.

"You ok?" John asked, stopping before her. This was another phrase Gwen had come to understand. It was hardly ever a question of physical health, but an inquiry about one's mental state. It was an odd concept…if one was in good health, their mentality did not matter. As long as you could keep up with the group…that's what mattered. Gwen found this constant obsession of 'ok' rather…nice.

She shook her head.

"Wanna…talk about it?" John asked, a question which was meted with Gwen's familiar blank stare. "Right…no talking…gotcha. How about some sleep? Maybe it'll make you feel better."

Gwen nodded, making her way back inside. Xia's family had opened their home for Teyla and the Lantians. John followed her, "Come on kiddo, I'll even tuck ya' in, ok?" He guided her to a hammock, plopping a blanket on top of her head once she'd gotten in. Gwen snorted, sorting the covering over her with John's help. He patted her head, "Big day tomorrow. Got a surprise for the others. You are going to fly us home. Need to learn sometime. Get some sleep, ok?"

As he walked away, Gwen placed her thin fingers atop her head where John's hand had rested. She wondered if one could…invent a family. Was that allowed? If it was…well…she closed her eyes to sleep. John could be 'Father'.

---------------

"Oh my God," Rodney breathed, staring at the screen before him. He'd found it, he'd found the answer, he'd found what they had been looking for. Right there, the entire time, the whole time right there before him, just not the way they had hoped…that he had hoped.

"Oh God," he breathed, disbelieving what he was seeing. That could not be right, no no no no no! Just…couldn't, had to be some mistake. But the data wasn't faulty, it wasn't wrong. The program he had written after a sudden spark of inspiration had sorted it all together and, there it was…and it was disgustingly beautiful. It was a power source all right, but not energy to power, but energy to fight to Wraith-

"Rodney! I thought you were going to bed," Radek growled, stalking into the lab. "You, sleep, now. You will be cranky and I do not want to deal with you when you are cranky. You are insufferable enough wh…. What…is that?"

Radek had been mumbling as he walked up behind Rodney, who had been ignoring him. Radek blinked, leaning over Rodney's shoulder, staring at the screen. "What is that?"

"That's it," Rodney said softly, "that's what we've been looking for."

"That…that can't be. That cannot be right. Turn off this joke and go to sleep!"

"God I wish it was a joke, Radek!" Rodney snarled, whirling around. He was angry and disgusted. His face softened as he pushed past his friend. "It's not a joke, Radek…."

"Where are you going? Rodney!"

Rodney stalked out of the lab, yelling over his shoulder, "I have….to tell Elizabeth." She had to see this. He couldn't hide it. He wished he could. He stepped into the transporter and as the doors closed, he closed his eyes, wondering why in the world his heart felt so heavy.

---------------

Screams awoke Sheppard, screams followed by howling snarls. He was up on his feet in an instant, reaching for a weapon that was not there. Ronon was already up, his personal gun in his hands. Ronon dashed out of the tent, followed by Sheppard.

"Ronon!" Sheppard called, "What's going on?"

"I don't know; I just got up."

Athosians were running toward them, children crying, women screaming, men urging them ahead and some yelling and running in the other direction. Ronon and John ran forward with them. The men met in a group, those without weapons having anything shoved into their hands. John found himself the heroic wielder of a very dangerous looking hoe. Teyla was there, holding a sickle in each hand.

"Teyla!" John called, and the woman turned to him, fear and worry in her eyes. She came to him.

"John! It is the trildogs; they've come into the camp and taken four of the children."

John looked to Ronon. Trildogs were what Rodney had (successfully) named the large carnivores living on the mainland. They were large animals, half the size of a grizzly bear, and looked very much like the cross between a wolf and a hyena. They communicated in growls or howls, but mostly in a peculiar trilling sound. They lived in packs of 10 or more, lead by an alpha male. Their coats were made of course hair and their hides were thick, which meant that John's hoe was not going to be of much use against them. And that was if he could even get a hit in; they were fast and swift, which sharp claws and jaws of steel. When a trildog grabbed on to something, it did not let go until it was ready.

"We must hurry, or we will lose them," Halling called, lifting a torch and a half sword. Teyla nodded and the two headed the group toward the meadow. They followed the terrified cries of the children and the sound of the dogs.

"How many are there?" John yelled, looking nervously at the hoe. He would need to talk to Elizabeth about giving the Athosians some proper weapons…there was no way these farming implements and few swords, spears, and other medieval weapons were going to do anything fast.

"We can account for seven," Teyla yelled as they neared the meadow. Torches were raised, as were weapons. The trildogs already knew they would be followed; this was not the first time such a thing had occurred. Haste was more important than stealth. The small army rushed to the meadow, Teyla and Halling in the lead. The next thing John knew, he was running smack into Ronon's back. The big man had stopped dead in his tracks. John could hear crying, screaming, growling, and trilling. What had happened? Had they torn apart one of the children? No one else was moving. John peered from behind Ronon, preparing for a queasy and disturbing sight…and it was disturbing.

There were eight trildogs, their dark and dusty coats shining in the moonlight. The children were on the ground, each with a trildog standing over them, pinning them to the ground. The other four guarded the others, snarling and trilling dangerously. Their eyes were locked on-

"Gwen! Run!" Xia screamed, sobbing heavily as the dog pressed it's paw more firmly onto her back.

Red eyes were locked onto green. Gwen stood before the animals, her back to those who had rushed from the village. Her feet were bare and her hands empty. One of the canines lowered its head and took a step forward. Gwen did not move. John stepped out and called to her to come back. She may have almost beat Ronon, but these animals were stranger than that. She was going to get herself killed.

John's cry startled one of the animals and it charged at Gwen, its large jaw open. It leapt at the girl. Gwen did not move until it leapt at her, and she crouched down to the ground, twisting and sending a kick up into the animal's chest. The beast landed on its paws and collapsed. It rolled onto its side and Teyla covered her mouth. There was a hole in the beast's chest and Gwen's foot was covered in its dark blood. Gwen was up as another came at her from one side, and another charged to the other. As they came at her simultaneously, she waiting and rolled forward, causing the two creatures to collide. Dazed, they shook their heads, then falling to the ground as one received a blow to the head with Gwen's fist and the other a kick. Their heads whipped back too far to be natural. There was no indication they were going to rise again.

Gwen turned, facing the other five. Three charged at once, and Gwen was a blur. The animals were huge and she was so small in comparison. The children were screaming and sobbing, the animals snarling and growling, trilling at an ear piercing level, and Gwen was a white blur, the sounds of her sickening blows carrying to the others. The villages, Teyla, Ronon, and John could only watch in fascinated horror. Gwen's white arms and hands were being colored by the blood of her foes, the animals falling at her feet, dead.

There was only one animal left, one left standing over the children. Saliva fell from its mouth, falling on a small boy's face. He closed his eyes and sobbed. The animal leveled eyes with Gwen, who was panting and trembling, her body covering in blood and sweat. Her heart was racing and there was a brilliant fire in her red eyes. She was smiling, daring the creature to come at her. The animal did not move, rather it opened its maw and suddenly went down. It was going to crush the child's skull with one bite.

The trildog's jaw closed over flesh and held firm. Blood gushed from between it's teeth. The boy screamed then found himself being kicked away and dragged to his feet by Xia. "Run Kal! Run!" The children raced across the field, the adults rushing to them. The trildog's jaw bit down and Gwen could hear her arm cracking, the bones breaking. She couldn't feel it, not yet. She gritted her teeth and used all her strength to wrench the beast forward, flipping it and herself. The beast did not release her as it lay on its back. Gwen struggled, the pain coming to her mind. Tears wet her eyes from the pain. The animal rolled toward her, pinning her with its body before it got to its paws, standing over her, arm still in its mouth. Blood gushed and fell onto Gwen's face. She took her other hand and thrust up, her nails cutting through the trildog's fur and skin. She grabbed a hold of its throat and pulled back.

The canine released its hold, jerking its head back and away, sealing it's own fate. Gwen stood up, one arm hanging useless at her side. In her other hands she held the beast's throat, the warm blood coloring her hands darkly. She stepped toward the beast and, in a last effort, it jerked toward her, biting down on her ankle. Gwen flinched, kicking it with her other foot. The canine let go, gasping for breath. Gwen dropped the bloody mass in her hand. She heard footsteps behind her. She turned; her eyes dark and hard, lips pressed in a thin line, sweat, dirt, and blood coloring her pale face.

"Gwen…" John said hesitantly. He wanted to ask if she was ok, how she'd done that, but, all that came out was "What are you?"

Gwen looked at John. The trildog was still trying to grasp for breath, still alive. She turned her back to John, walked to the dog, turned to face Sheppard as she placed her feet on either side of the animal. The albino bent, taking hold of the beast's massive head in her small, thin hands. Gwen looked up, her eyes locking with Sheppards. There was a sickening _SNAP!_ as she broke the trildog's neck. Then, Gwen rose and walked past John, her broken arm swinging and bleeding freely, the bite on her ankle already healing.

John Sheppard looked down at the bodies. She had spoken to John in that moment, all too clearly. He understood.

* * *

_Voila! Here I am folks; thought I'd fallen off the face of the earth? Well, not quite. I'm still here and FINALLY over my writer's block. The story will go on to it's completion. Since you have all been so patient, here are more clues as to what's really going on. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. I'll try not to take so long on the next one._


	7. Awoken

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. No profit has been made from writing this.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_Awoken_

"I think it is best that you leave the village before dawn, Teyla…the people…they are afraid." Halling spoke in a hushed tone, stealing furtive glances at Gwen's prone form. John and Ronon stood either side of Teyla, one looking grim and the other disturbed. Teyla also glanced over at the young woman, the images of only a few hours earlier playing in her mind's eye as one of those movies she had seen. A haunting, waking memory, so filled with violence…and it had all come from Gwen. Eight trildogs dead, slaughtered without compassion.

"I know, Halling. I had hoped she would, perhaps, find a place here, to stay. After tonight, it would not seem so."

Halling shook his head, "I am sorry, Teyla."

"As am I," she breathed, her gaze now upon the prone child. Gwen had walked stoically back to the village, her ankle and arm healing before the eyes of those who stared. Her steps had been slow, almost dragging. The villagers had parted for her, murmuring as she'd passed. Her arm and ankle were healed, but the dirt and the blood had not gone away. She had looked a terrible sight, and those who had not witnessed her destructive power could only imagine from the descriptions of others. Gwen had ignored the villagers, making her way back to the tent. John, Teyla, and Ronon had followed closely, the latter of the trio rushing to catch the girl as she'd collapsed. It had been very sudden; Gwen had hesitated at the tent's entrance, then her body had shaken and she'd gone limp as she stood. She fell into Ronon's arms, unconscious. The former Runner had carried her inside, depositing the slender teen on a floor mat. It was there she still lay, unmoving.

"What do we tell Elizabeth?" Ronon intoned, his eyes drifting to the child.

"We'll worry about that when we get back," Sheppard said. "Right now we pick up and go before she wakes up." He turned to Teyla, handing her the tranquilizers Carson had given them. "Teyla, you're in charge of these. I'll carry her back and fly us home. Ronon…you sit in the rear with her and if she wakes up and tries anything…."

The big man nodded grimly, placing his hand upon his holster. He'd seen what she'd done to those animals…she had strength and grace he could envy. He would rather shoot than take her hand-to-hand. That time before…she had to have been holding back, she must have. He watched as Sheppard scooped the albino into his arms and headed out of the tent. Teyla followed after, and Ronon took up the lead. Ronon kept his hand ready. Sheppard was carrying a very dangerous, very deadly being in his arms. She looked peaceful and innocent now, but she had the power to kill them all.

Gwen did not wake on the walk to the Jumper. They made the journey in silence, without being followed by the villagers. There was too much fear. John laid her down on one of the back seats. Ronon sat down on the other side, stoically grim. Teyla knelt down beside the still girl, pulling out a box from under the seat.

"What are you doing?" Ronon asked.

"She is filthy," Teyla responded, removing a packet of wipes and proceeding to wipe away to grime and blood from Gwen's white face.

"You could wake her," he growled.

"She will not harm me," was Teyla's confident response. "If she wakes, she will not harm any of us."

"You really believe that, Teyla?"

The Athosian paused, glancing over her shoulder at Ronon. "I do…I must believe it." She turned back to Gwen. "She saved those children at great cost to herself. We do not know how strong she is, or how fast, or the extent of her healing abilities. Perhaps it took all she had, perhaps not. But rescue them she did, and when we return she will not be allowed to roam free. She'll…become a danger." She pressed her lips together, gently wiping at the girl's face.

Sheppard said nothing, grimly sending commands to the Jumper. The rear door closed and the ship rose up into the early morning sky. So much for teaching the kid to fly the Jumper. The less she knew about working Ancient tech, the better. Just in case.

He hated this feeling, the one where he had to be cautious, expecting the worst. Before, she was just a silent and strange kid. Now, she was a silent force of destruction. Teyla was right; as soon as they got back all the privileges Gwen had would be gone. She would be treated like little more than a new gadget Rodney had found. She hadn't harmed any of the Lantians yet, but yet was the key word and the trio in Jumper knew she had the potential. That potential alone made her a possible threat and, as attached as he was to her, Sheppard had to remember that and not let his emotions get the better of him.

Why couldn't life in Pegasus ever be easy? Too bad his life wasn't a television show….

---------------

The Jumper landed in the bay, the hatch lowering slowly. Gwen was still not awake, but her skin was clean from its filth. Sheppard turned, seeing Weir, Beckett, and Lorne waiting for them. John felt the hair on his neck stand up. Something was not right….

He stood, going to Gwen's still form and scooping her up once more. He cradled her thin form in his arms, feeling on edge, feeling like he had to protect her from something. A part of him said to rush back and close the hatch, fly away, locate some out-of-the-way world and leave Gwen there. Another part told him he knew something bad was going to happen, and to just get it over with. Teyla walked at his side, Ronon in the rear, hand still on his pistol.

"Well," Weir said with a smile all too enthusiastic to be genuine, "How was the trip? You returned early. I was surprised by your call so soon."

"Yeah, well…there was some excitement. Thought it best to come home," John said, and Weir tilted her head. John's tone told her there was more than what he was saying. But, there were things she was not yet saying herself.

"I see…well…if you'll let Lorne-"

"I'm going to take Gwen to the infirmary," John said firmly. "Then we'll talk."

"Alright…but we do need to talk."

So much was being left unsaid, a tension in the air. Half the group knew something the other half did not, and one individual's presence was keeping anyone from saying anything beyond the casual. They didn't know if she was awake, or if she would wake in the middle of something. Both groups had their secrets to tell, but there was a silent agreement not to chance disturbing the sleeping teenager. Weir watched Sheppard walk off with Carson, and then turned to those remaining.

"My office."

-----------------

"…I don't believe you. She's just a kid!"

Rodney rubbed his neck with one hand, the other mindlessly fiddling with the stress device from Gwen's lab. "I'm sorry, John, I really am. I like her too, she's a good kid, but…the evidence is pretty clear. She's not just a kid…she's a time bomb waiting to explode, and we let her out."

"No, you don't have any proof. She's not…she's not a…." John trailed off, knowing his argument was faulty before he even finished. He closed his mouth and turned his back to McKay.

"No proof? Are you crazy?! Of course I have proof! I have undeniable data, video footage, and please, let's not forget your little tale of her single-handed massacre!"

"She was simply defending the children," Teyla interjected, "She harmed none but the trildogs."

"Only because they were the initial threat! We have no proof she won't turn on-"

"Don't!" John whirled on Rodney, poking his friend strongly on his chest. McKay winced from the force of the poke. "Don't finish that sentence, McKay. If she went through half of what you're telling us, then the last thing we should be doing is condemning her. We'll be no better than those…those…_people_ that made her, and then she probably will turn on us."

McKay swallowed, looking down guiltily. He didn't know what to say. All he could do was roll the stress reliever in his hands and peer at the floor. He didn't like this anymore than the others. He liked Gwen, he really did. She was odd, but she was a good kid. She didn't deserve the childhood she'd had, if you could even call it that. He was disgusted with what had happened, but from a scientific standpoint, what had been done to her…it was…beautiful. It was almost perfect. Almost. Now things had to change; Gwen couldn't just be Gwen anymore, she had to be considered as what she was, and that made Rodney's chest feel tight. He recalled how Elizabeth and Carson had reacted. Weir had stood in muted shock and Carson…he'd wept. Not sobbing, but he'd wept. McKay couldn't blame him; Carson had done so much with Gwen, just as John had. The teen had both men nearly wrapped around her little finger. The video footage had been worse than the data itself, a kick in the gut so hard McKay had nearly thrown up.

"I do not believe she would harm us," Teyla said, looking to Elizabeth. "Surely, if she intended us harm she would have done so already, if not back on the mainland. Is it not unreasonable to think she can overcome her training?"

Weir shifted in her chair uncomfortably. She wasn't enjoying this; she'd been through this once with Carson, Rodney, and Lorne. One wanted to lock her up, another put her back in stasis, and the third was let her escape to an uninhabited world with enough supplies to care for herself. Weir was torn as to what she wanted. On the one hand, from a standpoint of morals and human rights she was disgusted and wanted to help the girl with all their resources. But, on the other, from a scientific and strategic standpoint, a standpoint of a leader fighting a galactic war…Gwen was an asset, to be used to their advantage. The Geneva Convention did not quite apply fully in Pegasus. Afterall, there was their experiment on Michael, which surely would not have passed back in the Milky Way.

"It's not just her training," Rodney said, looking to where Teyla sat in one of Weir's extra chairs. "It's her very nature. Just as it's in yours to breathe and eat, it's in hers to be what she is. We can't change that."

"I can control when I eat and breathe," Ronon intoned. "I can starve myself, hold my breath."

"Yes, lad," Carson said quietly. "And after awhile, ye' are left with two options: Give in an' eat or breathe…or die."

"That cannot be," Teyla said, incredulous. "Surely her life is not dependent upon whether or not she can kill!"

"It is, sort of," Carson said with a half laugh, starting to pace back and forth. "'er very essence is pulled toward killing. There is a hormone her body needs in order to function properly, a hormone tha' is only released when 'er body reaches a certain state o' stress, a state she reaches while in battle. Without the hormone, 'er body is designed ta' break down by releasing a toxin into 'er bloodstream. As long as she has the hormone floating in 'er system, the toxin remains inert and harmless. But once the hormone has dissipated ta' a particular volume, the toxin beings ta' attack her system."

"So?" Sheppard said, "We keep her active. She can train with Ronon, or me, or Teyla. Make her swim out for five miles and back twice a day. We can simulate it." The expression on Carson's face told Sheppard the good Doctor had already thought of that option, and the answer was no. "Why not?" Sheppard demanded.

"Her body is different from ours," Weir said. "From what the three of us have seen from the data, she has the same organs, same physical structure, but inside…everything reacts to each other differently. They designed her with such care and precision, the only way we can simulate her need to kill is if we let her on the mainland and she hunts down the trildogs or…."

"We use her to fight the Wraith," Ronon deadpanned, "Which was why she was made in the first place."

"Yes," Rodney said, "that's…pretty much all we can do."

"We can't do that…we can't use her for that," Sheppard announced.

"But if we do not, then she will die," Teyla reminded him softly.

"We could always put her back in stasis," Rodney offered. "Maybe…I can find a DNA deprogrammer or something down the line and…fix her."

"But it doesn't make sense! Why if this is true, why isn't she dead right now? She's been here for…what, a week? If she needs to go Texas Chainsaw in order to stay alive, why isn't she dead right now? Answer me that," Sheppard challenged. A week...it had been about a week, hadn't it? Not a particularly long time, but long enough to grow attached to the young woman, the child. Kids...they seemed to have an odd effect on the people of Atlantis. Why, if an infant ever managed to find it's way into the city, half the people would turn into blathering or doting idiots...or something close to it.

"The hormone lasts for aboot three days," Carson answered, "before it's volume lowers ta' where the toxin begins ta' invade 'er system. She's not dead because 'er body was in a state o' hibernation. The toxin an' the hormone were both suspended as 'er body readjusted. The cold of 'er skin was indicatory o' that, but we thought it was normal. That's why it took 'er so long ta' heal, and no time at all on the mainland. She's no longer cold to the touch, she's warm. She's now at the state she should be."

"So we keep her cold," Ronon shrugged, "Problem solved."

"We can't do that," Rodney said. "We'll kill her that way, just slower. Like I had to explain several times to Carson and Elizabeth, Gwen was designed, programmed, created, what have you with such care and precision. Everything about her, from her electrolytes to her big toe was so carefully crafted so she could be controlled, so she herself could not change her purpose. We can lower her body temperature, yes, and yes, for awhile, she'll be fine but in the long run it won't help her, it will kill her. She's not suspended, she's actively alive now, which means her body chemistry has to be at a certain flux to operate in the manner it should. We keep her cold, her immune system effectively shuts down, she can't heal herself, she'll get weaker and weaker until she just gives out."

"There has to be something-" Teyla began and, finally, Rodney snapped.

"There is _**NOTHING WE CAN DO**_!!!" McKay's eyes blazed and his chest was heaving. "There _**is no happy ending**_ this time! There. Is. _Nothing. _We. Can. Do! She was designed to be a weapon, she was created for the sole purpose of killing Wraith and any other enemy her creators happened to have! And I am getting sick and _**tired**_ of _**explaining this over and over again!**_ I am not going to go over it anymore! We can't help her! Even my idea is just wistful thinking! Gwen _**is**_ the power source. It's not a battery, it's not a ZedPM, it's not even a gun, it is _**her.**_ She is the source of power; she is a weapon, the weapon. She, and all the others like her, was made to _**kill**_. And she's the last, and there is no way we can change what she is! The only thing _**any**_ of us can do is put her in stasis, use her for her purpose, or we kill her ourselves. That's it! Nothing else! _Nothing_! They made sure of that, whoever made her, made **brilliantly** sure of that. And if we don't let her carry out her nature, she _will turn on us_, she _**will**_, and _**no**_ amount of believing in her or how gentle she may seem or how attached she is to us, _she will turn on us_. She _needs_ to kill to survive, and she _needs_ to survive to kill, the two go hand-in-hand and _there is __**nothing we can do to change that! Nothing**_**!**"

Rodney's shoulder heaved, his face lined from the stress and his angry fit. Ronon seemed impressed such an outburst could come out of the battle-shy man, and Teyla looked ready to cry. Sheppard himself was shaken. He hated this…Gwen had to be seen as a threat. He knew Rodney would have already gone over everything he could to try and fix this, to make that 'happy ending', to save the day as only Rodney M. McKay could. But…there was no way out of this one. There was no happy ending. They had three choices, and they all pretty much ended the same.

"Excuse me," Carson said into the tense silence of the room. "But she's awake now."

Without a word, all those in the room rose and followed Carson to the infirmary. They walked in silence, John in the lead with Carson, followed by Teyla and Weir, Ronon, and tailing behind Rodney. They entered the infirmary and Gwen turned toward the noise of their feet. She remembered what had happened, what she had done, and how it had felt. It had felt wonderful…so very wonderful. Better than sparing with Ronon. She felt inwardly whole and healthy. At the sight of her keepers, she shrank back a bit. Would they be afraid of her? Use her? Lock her up? She felt whole inside, but now her fate was uncertain.

Their expression were grim and their bodies tense. She could sense all was not right. She had been foolish to do what she had done. But the screams…she'd seen Xia dragged out by the beast, unheard and seen by the others. Her body had ached to follow, to fight, to save Xia…to kill the beast. She hadn't been able to resist. And now…they knew. Or they guessed. The way John stood and Carson smiled…no, they were afraid of her. It made her chest hurt.

Rodney moved to step from behind Ronon, toying with the stress reliever in his hand. His thumb played on top, not quite pressing down on the gel. Gwen saw the device all too late, her eyes going wide. She jumped from the bed, right at Rodney. John moved to intercept her as Ronon pulled his pistol. Carson cried out, Weir was pushed aside as Teyla pushed Rodney to the ground. In a panic, Rodney's thumb pressed down on the gel.

A terrifying, animalistic howl tore from Gwen's throat.

Then, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Short chapter? Yes, but necessary so I can get to what I have eagerly wanted to write for ages. A lot of information there too; sorry if it seems crammed. I was editing this yesterday, wrote it out twice…not totally happy with it. Well, it can only get better, right? Anyway, you'll have to wait for the next chapter (which probably will not come out as quickly as this one did because it's not even started, just in my head. _)

**EDIT:** Made a little mistake, for anyone who read this before the edit. Sheppard said Gwen had been there for a month. This is a MAJOR oops on my part. She's been there for about a week, not a month. Sorry about that, folks. This is what you get when you go on a year+ hiatus.


	8. Iris

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. No profit has been made from writing this. _

_

* * *

_

**Chapter Eight**

_Iris_

"Answer the question," Sheppard commanded firmly, standing at parade rest, hands behind his back and feet splayed. His eyes were fixed forward, unwavering, his emotions locked firmly away. He had a duty to fulfill, he could not allow himself to be swayed, could not allow his outbursts and desperations from before to move him. He was a soldier, a leader, a protector of many. He dealt with threats to his people swiftly, fiercely, and completely. He would not waver, could not. He was in control of himself, and now, he had to be in control of her.

"I repeat, answer the question."

The rest of his team, his leader, and his city's doctor looked down from the observation room, through the tempered glass hiding and shielding them from harm. Their eyes moved from Sheppard to her. It had come to this, and it had not been easy. The last week of growing attachments had been a struggle to try and shed. Shed completely they were not, but fact had to override emotion. The city and its people were in danger and the threat had to be neutralized or controlled. It was a miracle none of them stood with anything more than scratches on their arms and some bruises here and there. Her power was immense in comparison to them.

"Answer me!" Sheppard barked.

The creature before him did not respond, she merely stood opposite him, her hands tethered together, as were her feet, the bonds connected by chains. Her hair had been cut short, cropped to military length. The nails of her fingers and toes sheared, clothed in blue pants and a black shirt. She held John's gaze, unwavering, her red eyes boring into his own. The innocence of her personality, the curiosity that had captured them so seemed to have gone. It made it easier this way, the grim thin line of her mouth, the spark in her eyes, the tenseness of her muscles yearning to fly free for their purpose; these things made it easier to see her as a threat. The city could not welcome her now. It had to protect itself.

"I command you to respond!"

Her head twitched back and forth, jerking from side to side. It was a clear refusal to the command given to her, stubbornly holding her silence from Sheppard.

"I am giving you a direct order. Answer the question with a verbal response!"

Her head twitched again, eyes blinking fiercely. Her lips pulled back over her teeth and she growled. The marines behind Sheppard raised their weapons, leveling them at her chest. Sheppard did not move, he was in control, he was the leader, and she knew it.

"Yes," she hissed.

Sheppard lifted his chin. "You have been able to speak the entire time. Why did you refuse? Answer with a verbal response."

Gwen's head twitched again, fighting an inward battle she seemed destined to lose. She curled her lips higher, angry. All had been shattered in a single moment; the device in McKay's hand had forced her to break her silence and the illusion of freedom she had thought she had attained. All her memories had returned; she could recall everything with shocking clarity. She was no longer Gwen; she had never really been Gwen. It had all been an illusion as she'd discovered the world from new lights, new angles, emotions and sensations completely alien to her. However, it was like a machine with a new program. She knew and understood different things, but could not deviate from her true nature, her true purpose. She was a tool, not a person.

"I was afraid," she growled, angry at their discovery, angry at being forced to admit her weakness. She was weak, so very weak. To think things could change…she had known better. She'd known it the entire time. Had her brief taste of freedom, of individuality and discovery beyond her design been worth it?

_Rodney's thumb pressed upon the gel. To the team, it seemed as though nothing had happened, but clearly something had. Gwen crashed into Sheppard, hands flying to her head, screaming in excruciating pain. She rolled from John to the floor, trying to escape from whatever had suddenly plagued her, but her legs did not respond in unison and her hands only clawed at her head, tearing at her ears._

_Rodney and Teyla struggled to their feet, eyes wide, uncertain. John jumped up, pushing Ronon's hand down, forcing the gunpoint to the floor. Carson was at Gwen's side, trying to calm her. Her response to his touch was to twist away, growling, snapping, screaming, and crying. Weir and John rushed to help Carson, Teyla swiftly relieving Ronon of his weapon._

"_Bloody 'ell!" Carson yelled at Sheppard since it had seemed to Carson, she'd jumped at him, "what'd ye' do?"_

"_Nothing!" he yelled back, trying to grab hold of the girl._

_Ronon looked to Rodney as the scientist was nervously backing away, looking panicked, his thumb running lightly across the gel of the pad in his hand. The Runner eyed the other man and strode over, grabbing Rodney by his shoulder. "What is that?"_

"_What is…I…I don't know, why do you care?" Rodney yelped._

_John grabbed hold of Gwen's arm. The girl's red eyes flew open and she latched on to him, her finger's digging into his shoulder. She'd stopped screaming for a moment, her lips curled back in a grimace, teeth grinding together. Her expression was pleading, begging him silently to do something, to stop whatever was causing her so much pain._

"_Where did you get it?" Ronon barked._

"_From the planet whe-" Rodney started to say, but Ronon grabbed hold of the device, wrenching it from McKay's hand. He dropped the device to the floor and with a single step, crushed it beneath his foot._

_A moment later, Gwen relaxed, breathing heavily as she began to sob. Carson and Elizabeth released their holds on the girl, but remaining crouched beside her. John stroked her head soothingly, telling her it would be okay. Gwen swallowed, pulling her head away from Sheppard. She'd looked up at him and he'd peered down._

"_Thank you," she'd whispered, freezing everyone there with those two words. Her silence was broken. "Please…forgive me."_

"You knew we meant you no harm," Sheppard responded. "You knew you were safe with us. It would not have come to this had you trusted us."

Gwen's head twitched again, her teeth still bared, weapons fixed at her chest. Her voice was scratchy and whispery, "It would not have ended any other way. I had hoped the outcome would change. It was only a hope, a dream."

"We would have helped you," John said. "You knew the entire time what you were. You should have told us, trusted us as we trusted you."

"You cannot help me," Gwen stated.

"You should not have run."

"I had no other option."

"_Please…forgive me."_

_The Lantians were startled, shocked to stillness. She had spoken, after determined silence, she had spoken, and clearly! Carson's eyes were wide, briefly ignoring the fact Gwen had clawed at her head she'd broken her own skin. It was healing over already, but the blood was there, drying upon her skin and hair. They knew the truth; she'd been refusing to speak._

_Their stillness did not last long, for the second after Gwen had asked for forgiveness; Sheppard was thrown backwards toward Ronon. Gwen was up and running, leaping over the two men now in a heap on the floor. Rodney yelped as the girl dashed around him and out of the infirmary. Teyla was off at once, followed by Ronon and Sheppard. Weir pressed her hand to the radio, flowing after the trio._

"_This is Docotor Weir; mobilize all teams, all non-essential personnel remain where you are! Find and trap Gwen! Do not fire, I repeat do not fire. Do not provoke her at all costs!" _

_Gwen flew down the corridors. She heard the command issued over the city's announcement system. She knew now; do not fire, so not provoke…how much did they know now? Enough…enough to know she could kill them, would slaughter them if so moved. What would they do with her? Kill her themselves? Use her? She didn't want that, no more blood, no more orders…but it's what she was, and she knew it. They were good people, they were kind, but she was a tool they could use; she was a powerful weapon. If they used her…she knew even good people could do terrible things, order _her_ to do terrible things. But the Lantians didn't know how to control her…not yet. If nothing else, she would not give them that chance. She would take away their option of control, to use her for their own means._

_The child knew where the control room was, and to that place she ran. Two marines stepped out from around the corner. One shot his hand to his ear, shouting into the radio they had her. The other shouted to her to stop, leveling his weapon at her. Weir had told them not to provoke her…they would not fire._

_One of the men flew backwards, sliding across the floor. The other she struck across the face, careful of her strength. He crumbled to the ground, unconscious but not dead. She bit her lip, looking down at the man. She had to be careful; these people, once gracious hosts, were now on a very fine line. They would stop her, trap her…they were enemies, threats to her. She'd been trained to destroy such threats. She stepped over his body, ignoring the weapons on his person. As long as they did not fire at her, she would immobilize them. It was against her training…but for now her survival was dependent upon escape, not slaughter._

_Not yet._

"You should have trusted us," Sheppard replied firmly.

"You would have still put me in this room. I would still have guards. The only difference would be I might not be bound as an animal." She saw Sheppard flinch and she lifted her chin, glaring into his eyes. "But this is what I am now, is it not? If not an animal, I am a threat. You have not called me by the name you gave me since entering this room."

John looked away for a moment. She was right; he had not called her by name. He thought of her as an enemy right now, to keep his mind where it should be, to disallow for emotion. She was a threat, a danger; he had to remember that. He put his gaze back to her. "Are you a threat to this city? Answer with a verbal response."

Gwen tilted her head. "Why do you insist on asking questions to which you obviously already have the answers?"

The sarcasm which dripped from her tone sounded very similar to McKay's. He couldn't help but snort in amusement. She had spent far too much time around the man. "You did not kill anyone," Sheppard said, "if your life depends on taking another, why did you not? Answer with a verbal response."

_It took a few minutes for her to neutralize those in the gateroom. The technicians, marines, civilians all stood no chance. Not a shot was fired, and though some tried to defend themselves, they were no match for her skills. They all lay unconscious, some to wake with cuts and bruises. Her red eyes scanned the DHD; she remembered how it worked, what she could not recall was any number of addresses she had dialed, worlds she had helped to scorch, Wraith worlds…human worlds._

_Someone fired a shot over her head. Gwen jerked back, growling. "Gwen!" It was Sheppard's voice…he had shot at her. Not to harm, to get her attention. He was there, he knew where she was, and he could shoot her. Her red eyes flashed. He was moving very quickly toward being a threat. She did not want to have to kill him._

"_Gwen! We know you're up there. Come down and we can talk, figure something out. You don't need to do this. You're hurting innocent people."_

_Gwen ducked behind the DHD, moving her hand up and pushing down on a random key. Anywhere was better than here. He did not understand. She knew nothing could be worked out. She knew she needed to do this. She knew there was the possibility they would use her to harm even more people than she was immobilizing now. She hit another key, hearing the gate spin. Five more random keys and she could dash across the floor. They wouldn't hit her. Four more, three more, two…wait. She poked her head up, pushing hard on the dials. Nothing…they were not responding and the gate had shut itself off._

"_I've locked her out," she heard Rodney's voice from where Sheppard's had come. The girl growled, rose, and ran out of the control room toward the conference room, and down the hall. She heard Sheppard swear after her and yell at Ronon to catch her. Ronon fired a couple shots over her head and past her arms. He was missing on purpose, she knew he was, but that did not change the fact he was firing. They had both disobeyed Elizabeth's order. Gwen gritted her teeth, pivoting on her toes, dashing down a long corridor. Her red eyes burned, her heart racing and her body ready to fight. She hoped Ronon and Sheppard did not show themselves. Their hope was to stay out of sight, or let her reach the Jumper bay._

"I was weak," Gwen responded coolly.

"I order you to elaborate," Sheppard barked.

Gwen's head twitched again, back and forth, up and down. It was…confusing to her. It had been weakness; it had been her mistake and downfall. She'd allowed herself to be caught because of it. She didn't understand it. She was designed and trained to kill; it was her nature, her first instinct. However, she had not killed those in her way. She'd rationalized a reason not to, convinced herself it would hinder her, in her best interests not to dispose of those in her way unless so attacked. It was confusing; she couldn't fight it, yet she had? No…she'd rationalized against taking their lives, used logic to come to a conclusion she could accept that did not go against her design. Slaughter would have taken up precious seconds. Her goal was to escape, not to linger. Her survival had been dependent upon escape, not killing. She knew how her body worked; she knew the encounter with the trildogs had given her three days of proper function. It was pure logic, rationalization borne of desperation because she had formed emotional attachments. Such attachments were weakness, as was made evident at her current confinement.

"I was weak," she repeated.

"You could have killed me," Sheppard said, narrowing his eyes. "I order you to tell me why you did not. Answer with a verbal response."

_Marines were the breadcrumbs leading to the Jumper bay. Gwen had taken them down swiftly, leaving their limp bodies crumpled on the floor. No shots had been fired, no lives had been taken. Their singular strength and mass of numbers had slowed her little. How could her thin body harbor such strength? Careful design was the only answer. She was strong just as an ant, defied visible reason in the same manner of the bumblebee. _

_Sheppard and his team crept into the bay. Rodney nodded to John; she was in here, in one of the Jumpers. He couldn't see or hear anything. Waving to Teyla and Ronon, they split up, leaving Rodney at the door with a stunner in his hand. John had a Wraith stunner in his hand, as did Teyla. They did not want to shoot the girl, just catch her. She couldn't be allowed free. She was too dangerous._

"_Gwen," Sheppard said, going around the corner of an open Jumper. Gwen was inside, attempting to understand the ship. It was on, responding to her touch, accepting her Ancient genes. She turned, facing Sheppard. He pointed the weapon at her chest. "Just come out," he said reasonably, "and we can talk about this."_

_Gwen bared her teeth. She charged at him. He fired the stunner. The blast hit her full in the chest and it only seemed to enrage her. The girl slammed into his chest, sending them both flying across the floor. His head hit hard on another Jumper. In a daze, he felt Gwen take his head into her hands. An image flashed through his mind, the memory of how she'd snapped the trildog's neck. He was dead now…Rodney had been right; she would kill him._

_The albino soldier stared down at Sheppard, her hands ready, and she hesitated. He was immobile…he could not stop her now. But he would follow after, try to find her, take her down, and maybe even kill her. She had to survive…survival was as strong an instinct as slaying. However…John had been so different from her old keepers. He'd been kind. He could be the elusive figure of Father. Her face softened, rationalizing, trying to logically work it out in her mind…but no, in the long run letting him live would put her at risk. He had to die._

_Teyla came from the side and shot at her. The stunner ran over her body and Gwen jerked her head around, snarling at the woman. She rose to jump at Teyla. They all had to die. It was the only way for her to escape and not be followed. Something struck her in the back. Gwen turned toward the new assault. Twice more she was struck in the chest and she went to her knees. This weapon…was effective._

_Ronon pointed his pistol down at the still child. His dark eyes shot up to Teyla. "Don't ever," he growled, "take this from me again."_

"I was weak," Gwen repeated for a third time.

Sheppard regarded her for a moment, and then sighed. He wasn't going to get anywhere. Her refusal to explain was either proof she didn't know, or she did and wasn't going to tell. Given she'd been able to communicate this entire time and hadn't, he was more inclined to believe she was just keeping it to herself.

"We'll continue this later," he responded, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. "You will remain here."

"Is that an order?" Gwen quipped in a tone that gave Sheppard pause. He turned slowly.

"What do you mean by that?"

Eerily, Gwen smiled, her expression sending a shiver down his spine. "Do you really think this room will hold me?"

John paused, looking around, and then fixed his gaze back to Gwen. He held her eyes. "I order you to remain in this room until given further instructions. Comply."

Gwen's cruel smile faded. "Directive accepted."

------------------

"She wants us to control her," Sheppard heard McKay say as he entered the observation room. "She doesn't want us to question her, but she wants to be controlled. By us."

"What's going on," Sheppard asked, joining the others, peering briefly down to Gwen before fixing his gaze on Rodney.

"I'm…not quite sure, but I think I have an idea." He turned to the others, "Despite everything she is, what she knows she is, Gwen is, as much as I hate to admit it, a child. And what are children best at? Games."

"What is he blathering about," Sheppard groused. "Did I miss something?"

"Look at her," he pointed down to Gwen, who had not moved from her position after accepting her 'directive'. "Still as stone…" Rodney trailed off, and then marched off, snapping his fingers. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Weir called after him.

"Can't talk right now; my brilliant mind is working a lot faster than any of you guys, so, um, just talk amongst yourselves while I stay one step ahead."

As the Canadian scurried off, Ronon folded his arms and grumbled, "One day, I'm going to shoot him."

"I've done that," Sheppard quipped. "It's rather therapeutic."

"What do you intend to do," Teyla asked Weir, the two women ignoring Sheppard and Ronon.

"I don't know, Teyla," Weir said softly. "When I signed up for this, I was prepared to face many unknown situations. I knew things here wouldn't be the same as back home but…I never expected anything like this. She's just a child."

"With great power," Teyla reminded the other woman.

Elizabeth bit her lip, looking to the other. "Teyla…you are a leader of your people, and I value your insight on my matters. If you were in my position…what would you do?"

Sheppard and Ronon were silent, waiting along with Weir for Teyla's response. The Athosian woman bit her lip, arms folded across her chest. It was a weighty question for a delicate and unpleasant situation. If she were in Weir's position, what would she do? Teyla closed her eyes and bowed her head. She was very attached to the albino, it pained her to answer.

"I would…use her," she said slowly. "The Wraith has culled my people for thousands of years, to have a person such as her, capable of unknown power to fight them would be an asset, a way to defend and protect my people. She was created for the purpose of destruction, and as much as I care for her, she is what she is and I would use her to protect my people. If I could use control her or use her…I would…destroy her so she could not harm others, nor allow the Wraith to perhaps capture and use her for their own purposes." Teyla looked to Weir, "It is a difficult choice we find ourselves, Elizabeth. On the one hand, we look at her and we see a child, a person, someone who has been forced into a life of pain, one to whom we wish to save from their fate." She looked back down to the unmoved Gwen. "Yet, on the other…we cannot look at her and see a person. We must look at her as we would a knife. She looks like us, and in many ways is like us, but…she has a singular purpose. She is, perhaps, more like a Wraith than ourselves."

"If she's like a Wraith, then we should kill her now," Ronon said gruffly.

"I think I like the idea of stasis better," Sheppard said slowly, looking sideways at Ronon. "Then maybe we can help her one day, find some piece of machinery to scramble and fix her up somehow."

Elizabeth looked down at the girl, still as stone, having not moved since Sheppard's departure from the room. She felt someone place their hand on her shoulder. Turning her head just slightly, she met Carson's eyes. The Doctor had been quiet, standing to the side, looking down at his patient. Now, he gave comfort to his friend and commander; the woman was in a difficult position and he did not envy her. Whatever decision she made, he would support, even if he did not like it. He was at a loss for what he himself would do. It was so hard to comprehend, to look at someone who should be a person as similar to a machine or, as Teyla had suggested, a Wraith.

"Now we know why she never spoke to us," Weir spoke, turning her eyes back down to the albino. "I understand why she deceived us, but I wish she'd told us sooner."

"She 'ad no other choice," Carson said, letting his hand fall from Weir's shoulder to his side. "She were right; it'd 'ave ended no other way. She knew tha'…she's a smart lil' lass. Everythin' wasn't a deception, though. Like 'ow bubbles fascinated her. She knew what she was, but for a brief time, she were something more than what she is: a person."

"She must have known it wouldn't last," Weir replied, "she must have known. She'd have hurt somebody, killed someone if I hadn't let her go with Teyla. I can't imagine that possible scenario."

"Don't try," Ronon said matter-of-factly. "Just figure out what you're going to do with her now, before something does happen. We got, what, three days before she'll start dying? Then the whole city will be in danger."

"Ronon," Teyla hissed, "please. This is not an easy situation."

"It's very simple; we don't want to use her or kill her, so the answer is obvious."

"We can't jus' put 'er in stasis," Carson said, "we can't garuntee the chamber won't fail if the city is attacked…an' what 'appens when she comes out? She was in a stasis pod for a long time, lad. We can't be sure we can one day 'elp 'er."

"But she'll be not dying and not hurting anyone. Best option," Ronon argued logically.

"But we can't pass this opportunity up," Weir said. "We can still study her design, how her body works…and maybe…maybe have her help us fight the Wraith." Weir placed a hand on her forehead. "I wish I knew what she wants, but even then we can't be sure if it's her or her nature talking."

"If I were Gwen, I would want you to use me," John said. "It's what I was made for, it's what I know, it's what I've been hiding. It makes sense. I don't know what McKay was talking about, but if she wants us to control her, then maybe she wants us to use her."

Down in the room, Gwen closed her eyes, her first movement beyond breathing and blinking since Sheppard had left. She could hear them talking about her clearly, hear their doubts and concerns, discussions of their three options and reluctance to pick any one of them, even the one which was most kind.

She hadn't wanted them to know, but it would have been discovered sooner or later. She'd have struck out and slain someone due to her base need to survive. She'd hidden the truth as best she could, feeling her body awaken and hoping for the process to be slow, to delay her proper body function. That was broken now; now it was time for the truth she'd tried to hide. She hadn't wanted them to know who she was, and she couldn't go back and start over again and try to do things a little differently.

She opened her eyes and looked forward at the door. She could hear Rodney on the other side, arguing with one of the marine guards on the other side.

If he would only ask, she would tell him what she wanted.

The arguing outside the door started to become heated, but Gwen was not truly listening so as to make it out. It was not important right now.

If only one of them would ask, she would tell them.

How did the music go, one of the ones which made her feel sad inside? When everything is made to be broken.... She could not remember more than that, not right now. The yelling outside the door had quieted down; someone was telling Rodney to calm down. It didn't matter who...she didn't feel like straining her ears anymore to catch conversations. All she wanted was for someone, anyone, to come through the door and ask her what she wanted.

However, she knew they would not understand, and they would never do it.

* * *

_And on we go folks. A few questions have been answered, and some have not. For instance; what does Gwen want? I know, but do you know? Stay tuned for next week's installment! Yes, this is my goal, a once-a-week upload. And, so you all know, the title of this chapter and Gwen's thought at the end is a nod toward the song _Iris _by the GooGoo Dolls. Take a listen if you aren't familiar with it. It is but one of many songs which apply the our dear Gwen.  
_


	9. Hush a Bye

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis, I do not claim the dialogue used for literary purposes as mine which was borrowed from the show, as also clearly stated in the author's notes at the bottom of this chapter. __I want to remind my readers of key conversations, not hurt anything. __I never intend to publish this story. No profit has been made from writing this. Please do not sue._

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**Chapter Nine**

_Hush a Bye_

_What is my first memory?_

_My first memory is of cold. I could feel the cold around me and nothing else. No sounds, no sights, no smells, no tastes. It was just fierce cold, freezing me down into the center of my body. I could feel nothing else, and nothing else mattered but the cold. Then…one day I felt uncold, and yes I mean uncold because when one is as young as I was at the time, one has a limited vocabulary Doctor. Do I remember how old I was? Very young, Doctor, very young. Before I was three; perhaps I was an infant. _

_Why do you look so surprised? _

_I could feel hands touching me, moving me. I was too weak to stop them, could not see them or hear them. However, I was no longer cold. The hands rescued me from it. They saved me._

_They gave me my eyes and ears. I was blind and deaf before then. One day they lifted me up and put me on a flat surface. The next thing I remember something grabbed my head tightly, and other things held my arms and legs. Something poked me and I think I might have screamed, but I do not know. The pain grew worse and worse, on my face and the side of my head all the way down my back and to my feet. I tried to fight, but I could not move and I know I was quite small. I wondered where the hands were that saved me from the cold. After the long torture was over, the hands came again and put their fingers on my face. I could not tell you about the first things I saw or heard. If I try and remember, it is just a blur and static._

_You tell me, Doctor, did they put my eyes in their place or allow them to work? I do not know everything about myself. If I did, I would not have lived the life I lived, the life that is laid before me. I could have changed me back then; back then there were the means. They no longer exist._

_No, it is not much of a life. Perhaps program suits you better?_

_I am sorry, Doctor, did I strike a nerve?_

_You are not allowed to take offense, Doctor. You are not the one who is trapped. _

_I made my first kill when I was three. Yes, I said three; please do not interrupt me so much; I find it quite irritating. Only the best could continue. I knew what death was, it had been made quite clear to me very early in my development. _

_There were six of us in the group, all female. Only the best of us was allowed to keep living. We were all put in a room; like a pit of stone walls. The only weapons we had were our hands and feet…or teeth. I was not the best, or the strongest, or the smartest, but I was the fastest. I learned snapping necks was the best way to dispatch your enemies that day, and a quick blow to the throat an effective means of incapacitating. I earned my right to live. I only learned what happened to those who failed later, when I was older; whatever was left of them was salvaged and used again for someone else. I was made partially of those who had failed before me._

_Why such a surprised expression, Doctor? Surely, are not threes capable of such things where you come from? No? Then they are not living to their potential, I am sure. _

_Do not try and argue with me, Doctor. I was there, I remember, and you hold the data proof in your hands. You know as well as me. I was destined to be a killer before I was given my eyes. I was designed for it; it is not that hard to conceive my skills were made manifest so early. _

_I told you Doctor, I do not know everything about myself, which does not mean I knew nothing. I was not the smartest, but I am far more intelligent than you, and my hearing far superior. I can hear you talking behind the glass up there. However, most of my brain power centers mostly upon how best to destroy this entire city and its people in less than half a day._

_I wasn't allowed into real battle until I was six. _

_I know my age because it was important for the Commanders and Doctors (these were the hands who saved me from the cold) to know, to compare me with the others who were six before me, and to make the sixes that came after superior to me. They would refer to me as a Six, it really was not that difficult to figure out, not when there was a Forty-seven who strutted around because he was the only Forty-seven. We were not expected to live so long as he._

_How long were we to live, Doctor? I am certain your data tells you the answer._

_Yes; we were not expected to live past Twenty-five. Many did; they were our Field Leaders. _

_After I survived the Elimination (that's what the Commanders called it) I went into the room many more times to train. The Doctors called it the Chamber. I fought against many things, people of many worlds I later understood. Sometimes I lost, sometimes I did not. The Commanders would have one of others who were older than I was fight against me, teach me what they knew. I fought against the Forty-seven once. I lost; the defeat was brutal._

_When I was not training, I was with the Doctors. They would put a needle into my neck and soon I could not feel my whole body. I would lie on a table, watching as they opened me up. They told me to be still and not to be afraid, but I was never afraid. They had saved me from the cold, and each time this happened, it would hurt a lot once I could feel my body again, but I would feel better; stronger, faster, smarter. I was never afraid. I did not know what it meant to be afraid._

_My first mission was against the Wraith. I was six, as I said; six was when we were old enough. I was paired up with one they called Slasher. We did not have names like Gwen, or John, or Teyla. We were called by the tattoos on our necks or by what the Commanders called 'Field Designations'. Our designations described us, some aspect we were good at or a skill we utilized the most. Slasher was allowed to carry knives, and he used them with brutal accuracy. He would tear apart his enemies with them, ripping them open and letting them bleed out. I wanted to be like him; silent, quick, efficient, strong. I stayed by his side, alerting him to the foes which rushed us, drones protecting their Hive. I did not kill as many as Slasher, but I was quick. It was hard to break their necks, so I grabbed their throats and tore them out, reached into their chests and tore them apart. Any Wraith I met did not live, though I did not meet many. We destroyed the Hive ship and when we returned the Commanders gave me my field designation. They had seen everything through Slasher's eyes I learned later; they saw everything due to transmitters in our eyes. They named me Reaper. They said I had Potential. They said I needed to be prepared. It would be three years until I fought again._

_Who are the Doctors and Commanders? More questions to which you possess the answers, Doctor. Look at your data._

_I had learned to place my trust fully in the Commanders and Doctors. They had saved me from the cold, given me my eyes and ears, made me better, faster, stronger. I would protect them with my life, protect their world and people. Disobedience to them was death. I knew I had been made for a purpose, that purpose was the same as all others. I did not know any different. I did not know affection, love, kindness, not as I do now. What I did know was I was part of a new generation of my kind; those of us who survived the Elimination were more human than the others. We had the capacity of humanistic traits which had been purged from the earlier models. The theory was it would make us better, to have a greater sense of attachment to our field partners, to feel jealousy and desire to become better than another, to seek recognition and praise. They were mistaken._

_How do I know all this, Doctor? It's quite simple. It is a trait for human to crow about their achievements, about what they have accomplished. I merely listened and observed. _

_I underwent many operations, tests, experiments. At first they would numb me and I felt nothing, but after awhile, they would not and I would feel it. I remember screaming as they did whatever it was they decided they needed to do. I remember one operation where they removed the bones in my legs and replaced them with different ones, stronger but lighter bones so I would be faster. I cannot describe to you the amount of pain I was in, only that I was not allowed to be unconscious. Every scream told them they were doing what was needed to get it done right. _

_I learned to fear the operations, to hate them, to hate the Doctors and Commanders who oversaw them, demanded they be done. Feeler, an older female, sensed these emotions and told me to hide them, to guard them or I would be killed. She was part of a different group of soldiers; they sensed the locations of hidden enemies, detected lies. Feeler told me once she could read into someone's thoughts. I had asked if she could read the minds of our keepers and she had not replied. I obeyed her words. I had to survive; I must always survive._

_Yes, Doctor, some of us had different skills. Some claimed they could read minds, some sensed an attack before it came, others could disappear. Most were like me, but some had skills beyond. I envied them. They were always the favored. _

_Yes, Doctor, I learned fear and hate. I told you, they were mistaken, mistaken to make us more like them, more human. A computer may not know what a virus is, but with the right programs and commands, it can learn to recognize one._

_Yes, Doctor, I know about computers. Miko explained to me all about them, and Radek chased her away and explained the rest. I learn quite fast._

_I fought in the Chamber for those three years, to keep me sharp, to keep me alive. I have to kill to live, I knew this. It was one aspect of my physiology I had been taught and I understood. They forced me to feel what it was like to have the toxin course through my body. It is excruciating. When I was on the verge of death, they put me in a cage with a Wraith. It tried to feed on me. I ripped it apart. I was eight._

_Yes, Doctor, if I am put in a situation where I can kill, then I can survive. The hormone negates the toxin, remember?_

_Yes, Doctor, hypothetically, you could give me something to kill just before I die and I would recover. My will to live is extremely strong. I was designed to have a burst reserve of strength for such a scenario._

_Why? I was very valuable to them; they wanted to ensure my survival in all situations. I had at least Twenty-five years to give them after all. _

_I killed many Wraith and many humans. I also killed one of the Doctors. I remember being taken into the Chamber and one of the Commanders was there, holding one of the Doctors by his arm. He looked scared. I recognized him; he worked mainly with those like Feeler. He opened up our heads. I remember the Commander pushing the Doctor down and walking away, past me. He told me to kill him slowly, to make him scream. I could do nothing but obey; the Doctor begged, tried to order me to stop. Commanders outranked Doctors. I did what I had been designed and trained to do. I killed him as I had been ordered, but when I was sitting in my room, which was little more than a cage I realize now, I felt a feeling in the back of my mind. I had never had doubts about our keepers. I hated what they did to me, to the others, the pain they put us through, but there was a reason. Until now, I had always killed one who was clearly an enemy. A Doctor was not an enemy._

_It was confusing, and a contemplation I would not have had were I one of those who had been purged. But I was one of the newer models, I thought with both emotion and logic, which often times contradict each other. It is a wonder you do not go mad._

_When I was finally allowed back in the field, the doubts and feelings of the past three years faded to the back of my mind. I had been conditioned and prepared. My sole purpose was the eradication of the enemy. The others and I killed everything and anything within sight. I was among those who fought without weapons; all I had were my hands and they were all I needed. The Wraith was no match for us. They had numbers, but we had all been specifically designed and trained to fight them, fight and win. Their weapons were useless against us; we were immune, how I don't know, just as I do not know why they could not feed on us either. Few of us died when we met the Wraith in combat. They always lost. Always._

_Yes, Doctor, that is correct. I am immune to Wraith. How can one fight an enemy with true success if one is weak to them?_

_Yes, Doctor, projectile weapons work quite well against me…if they hit the places. Otherwise I simply heal, and then slaughter to shooter._

_Yes, Doctor. _

_No, Doctor._

_I was ten when I was placed in my first non-Wraith encounter. They were a rival people, enemies of the Commanders and Doctors. We were sent to one of their worlds and our orders were simple; no survivors. I took many down with ease. They had projectile weaponry, but it meant little to me. They did not hit the right places. I healed rapidly, my blood coursing with the rush of battle and bloodlust. Once I broke through their defenses and into the newly established village…my doubts began to set in. I had slaughtered women before, as I had men, but…I had never killed anyone who looked like me since the Elimination. _

_I found a shack filled with children, the oldest looking to be no older than myself, the youngest mere infants. The sight shook me and I hesitated, why I cannot remember. One of them drew a gun and shot at me…that took me from my stupor and I left the shack flooded with blood. I do not remember why I hesitated. At the time I blamed my more human abilities. _

_Doctor, I was designed to kill without prejudice. To me, anything is worth killing. _

_Yes, Doctor, even you. _

_For the next five years it was a consistent routine. I was excelling, a Reaper in all respects. I knew more ways to kill an opponent than they did ways of begging for their lives. I also killed many more Doctors and Commanders on orders. I killed Wraith, men, women, children, animals. I and the others like me were feared and nearly unstoppable. I learned that the people I protected were steadily becoming the most feared after the Wraith, their empire growing over many worlds. We were the source of their power…and we were their downfall._

_My doubts had begun to grow, as they had in the minds of others, the others of my generation of soldiers who were not fully purged of their humanity. The oldest of us gathered us together and we staged a coup, a rebellion against our keepers. The memories of our exploits haunted us, our keeper's desire for more power overwhelming. In our minds, we managed to reason they were becoming more and more like Wraith. This is how we rationalized our rebellion. We rationalized they were the enemy. They tortured us; they used us for their benefit, not ours. We were being sent into more and more dangerous situations; more of us were failing to return. More of our enemies were realizing the usefulness of projectiles. If they were dead, our odds of survival increased. We rationalized them dead._

_No, Doctor. Remember, a computer cannot go against its creator. But we were computers, weapons, given intelligence, logic, and human emotion. To go against them was not against our design. We were designed to survive and kill the enemy. It is not our fault they became the enemy._

_Only time will tell, Doctor. Right now, my life is not yet at stake._

_We failed, Doctor. We were outnumbered to our brethren who were purged. We failed and those few who survived were slated for Elimination._

_What happened? It is quite simple, Doctor. Our keepers had made many enemies and were attacked. I remember the sound of Darts, so I know it was the Wraith._

_How did I end up in the pod? That is a good question. You told me you only found one facility, but I know there were many others. I do not remember how I got inside the pod; I do not remember what happened to the others. All I can remember is the sound of Darts._

_Then I woke up here, with no clear memories at all, at least, not at first. I have them back._

_But _you_ already know all this, what _I_ do not know is why you think asking me will give you any more information than you already possess, Doctor McKay._

_-----------------------_

Rodney McKay shifted in his chair opposite Gwen. Sheppard sat on Rodney's left, Ronon's pistol resting in his lap, his hand just happening to be on the trigger with the barrel pointing under the table at Gwen's stomach. Up behind the glass the others sat, watching the exchange between Gwen and Rodney. McKay's proposal had been to get the story from Gwen, fill in any gaps or clarify what they already knew. Teyla and Ronon had looked over the data themselves as they listened, familiarizing themselves more than they already were.

Rodney had found the exchange quite…disturbing. She had insisted on referring to him only as Doctor throughout, saying the word as though it were something distasteful. She had not even acknowledged Sheppard's presence. It seemed strange now; Gwen had been rather open, trusting, and attached to them before. Now, she was standoffish, seemingly determined to make a gap between herself and them. Why, he wondered. Was it so she could bring herself to, perhaps, rationalize a way not to hurt them…or was it to make it easier for her to harm them should the time come.

Some of her answers had been disturbing in and of themselves. She had made many things very clear without actually saying it. Her very creators had become her enemy. They had had complete and total control over her and the others like her, and yet she and the others had turned on them. What Gwen had told them was they could learn all they could about her, find a way to control her, but in the end, should it become apparent to her their control over her was not in her best interests, she would also turn on them. She'd made it clear before this room would not hold her. She'd said anything was worth killing.

"Believe it or not, it does help," Rodney stammered, finding his ground with her, trying not to appear so shaken. Her voice…she took much pleasure in the slaughter of other beings. The way she talked made her sound like an addict speaking fondly of his cocaine. "For instance," he coughed, saying what he had observed just to see her reaction, "you've let us know that even if we learn how to control you, you can turn on us. Kill us."

Gwen flinched, her head twitching. He couldn't grasp just what it meant when she did that. She did it before, and a few times during her interrogation. It was not a seizure, or a genetic flaw; it had not manifested itself until she had started to speak. The only thing Rodney could figure was it was an inward battle, something in her mind, a conflict of thoughts perhaps? She compared herself to a computer, much the same way they had. Could it be she could only say so much? Did her design also dictate what she could and could not say?

Now there was a sudden theory worth exploring.

"Would you kill us if you felt it was in your best interests?" McKay asked, deciding the test it out.

"Yes," she said, without the twitching. Her response was quick, cold, flat.

"Would you want to?"

There was the twitching again. It took her longer to respond. He believed his theory had merit. "Everything dies, Doctor, even I will die one day," she said, her tone flat, "sometimes things must die before they so desire."

"But would you _want_ to kill us?"

Her head twitched some more. "What I want," she managed, "does not matter over what I need."

Rodney nodded, "Alright then. Well, you have been a big help, we'll be talking again sometime."

Rodney rose, as did Sheppard, trigger finger still ready for a quick pull. Mckay closed his laptop, tucking it under his arm. He paused, seeing Gwen's head twitch some more. He paused, motioning to Sheppard to wait. John furrowed his brow and Rodney mouthed he'd explain later.

"You," Gwen said, looking to John in the eyes, "are short on time, Commander. Your people will be in danger if you delay. This room…is unsatisfactory."

Her message was cryptic, but he understood what she was trying to say. He nodded to her. It was a warning, though why she didn't just come out and say so he didn't know. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rodney pull something out of his jacket pocket and place it before the girl. It was an MP3 player and some headphones. Gwen looked up to Rodney quizzically.

"Well," McKay said, motioning toward the gift, "you seem to like music and you are going to be stuck in here for awhile. Maybe it'll help…keep your mind off things." He smiled, "Keep it. It's, uh, yours. I don't, uh, really use it. I got some help…getting, you know, the stuff you like on it. So…it's fully charged. Should last a week…I, uh, gave it a better battery life. So…there you go."

He and Sheppard headed toward the door, leaving Gwen to reach over the table, her hands still tethered together. She placed her hands around the gift. Her head twitched some more, swallowing a few times. It took a moment and, just as the door opened, she managed to speak.

"It matters to you what I like, does it not?"

The two men paused, turning to look back at her. Rodney gave John a look, and then John looked to Gwen. "Yes…it does. We're nice like that."

"You care about what I want," she said, looking down at the player. "I wonder then…why you have not asked what it is I want." She looked back up to the two men.

"Well, you haven't told us," Sheppard countered. "If you did, we'd try and give you that."

"I cannot," Gwen said, too quickly to be ignored.

"Why?" Rodney asked, watching her closely. Her head was twitching in a seizure-like fashion.

"I cannot," she said, her teeth clenched, "It is a contradiction. It is against my design."

"Then how are we going to-" Sheppard began, but was interrupt as Gwen slammed her fist upon the table, jumping to her feet.

"You must order me!" Her body was trembling, her head twitching violently. The table was broken in two, lying at her bare feet. Her lips pulled back over her teeth, her teeth clenched tightly together. She looked near collapse.

"What do you want," Mckay asked, and then added quickly, "answer with a verbal response."

Though Gwen shook terribly, her head twitching to violently Sheppard was sure she would snap her own neck, her face showed relief. The girl sunk to her knees, holding the player in her hands. Her body shook and her head twitched, but she managed to answer the command.

"I want," she said, her voice almost a chocked whisper, "I want you…I want you to…."

---------------

"We can't do that, and she knows we won't," Elizabeth said, looking down at the girl as she sat in the middle of the floor, headphones over her ears. Gwen had stopped shaking and twitching, sitting in a perfectly still posture as if nothing had happened, as if she had not asked for what they could not give, would not give. It was…unthinkable.

"Well we don't have to, we could just let-"

"No, I don' want ta hear that, Rodney," Carson started. "I know where ye'r goin' and I will not allow tha'. Didje' not hear her? She can't even-"

"We don't have much choice," Ronon argued, "If we don't do something, she is going to see us as a threat, she'd told us that more than once and we have no reason to doubt her. We know what she is; she knows what she's capable of. It would be better-"

"I disagree," Teyla interrupted, "if she was made more human than some of the others like her, it is possible to find a sort of common ground. We could find a way to make everyone at ease and her viewing us as friends rather than enemies. She has warned us, is that not proof enough she does not desire to harm us?"

"She might not want to," Ronon said, "but that does not change the fact she will."

Sheppard was quiet as they argued behind him, shaken by her request. It was unthinkable, and it shocked him how she could ask them to do such a thing. How could they? Yes, he acknowledged what she was, how much of a danger she could become to the city but, when it all came down to it, when he looked at her, he did not see a weapon, something programmed and designed. He saw a girl turning into a young woman, a child who had not known the basics of a childhood. He looked at her now as she listened to the music, swaying back and forth just slightly, her eyes closed, lost in whatever world she had been carried into. Was she really so much of a threat? Was there really no common ground? Could they really give her what she wanted? They couldn't even give that to Michael….

"Don't you remember Michael," Sheppard said, loud enough to be heard and silence everyone. "Don't you remember what it was like having him here…what we said…what he said...."

The room went still. All eyes turned to Gwen as they remembered, remembered the Wraith they had captured and transformed into a human. As they thought about it, it was really not much of a difference in situation. Yes, there were differences, but…in the end, he had been reprogrammed as well, changed to better suit them and their purpose of destroying the Wraith. And, in the end, he had also become a danger to them.

-

_You see, _Beckett had said, _once the retrovirus was administered and the transformation begun, another drug was needed to prevent the Wraith elements from returning. It's actually a combination of drugs which unfortunately require a daily injection._

_So what are you saying? That-that being a Wraith is some kind of disease – something you think you can cure? What gives you the right to do this to me?_ Michael had been, now that they thought about it, understandably enraged.

_We're at war, _Sheppard had argued_. The Wraith will stop at nothing to kill every one of us. And we'll stop at nothing to make sure that doesn't happen._

_You made up _everything:_ my name, the photograph of my parents._

_It was my decision to keep the truth from you. _Weir had accepted complete responsibility.

_Why?_

_For a while, _Elizabeth had tried to explain, _we were concerned that if you were told, you may react the way you are now._

_The whole point was to erase any trace of Wraith inside you, not to keep reminding you of it. And trust me, _Sheppard had added, perhaps in an attempt to smooth things over, _you're a helluva lot better off now than you were before._

_-_

They'd told Michael he'd been better off the way he was, as a human. They changed his nature and it had destroyed who he was. They hadn't understood it then, and perhaps they still did not understand the true extents of their experiment. Turning a Wraith into a human was like turning a cat into a fish. Their very nature was transformed, and perhaps to them Michael was better off. But, had they really changed him for him, or for them? Would not the same arguments have been made had a Wraith taken one of them and transformed them into a Wraith? Carson shuddered to think of that scenario.

Could they really find a way to change Gwen? And if they did, who would it benefit? Would they be doing it really for her, or for them? She was a threat to them as she was; a delicate balance would have to be maintained for her to remain safe to be around, for her to view them as harmless to her survival. Her body worked together the way it did because of what she was, to change that…would it help her or destroy her?

Carson didn't know for certain. She was so powerful and yet so delicately made.

_-_

_I would like to be your friend. _Teyla had said to Michael as they'd shared a private exchange, _I would._

_You expect me to believe that?_

_You may not understand this now but making you human ... I believe this could make your life better._

_Really? Because from what I was told, you made me human in order to make _your_ lives better. So tell me then: what makes being human better than being a Wraith?_

_They are evil. They kill us, feed on us, show no mercy, know nothing of compassion…._

_And humans are different?_

_Yes._

_So what you did to me – that was done out of compassion?_

_-_

Teyla stared down at the girl, recalling her conversation with Michael. She'd tried to make him see, to understand being human was better for the both of them. But…he had been right. It had been done to make their lives better. They had not transformed him out of compassion for him…but out of a need to try and find a way to combat his race. To them, the Wraith were evil, cruel, a race which needed eradicated. The Wraith often referred to their prey as little more than cattle, cattle which could fight back.

They did not have the means to save Gwen from what she was, to change her to a full human. They could not change her biological need to kill. But they could put her in stasis until they found a way.

Yet, if they truly viewed her as a fellow human and not a weapon to be reprogrammed, would it be more compassionate to give her what she wanted?

-

_What do you want from me? _Michael had asked Ronon as the larger man had stopped him on the stairs.

_Just waiting for you to give me a reason to kill you, _Ronon had responded with an unpleasant smile.

_I guess I should thank you. You're the only one around here who's been honest with me from the start._

_-_

Ronon had to wonder if he was the only one who could really look at Gwen as the threat she was, without his heartstrings being pulled. He wouldn't deny he liked the girl, felt protective of her. However, she was a threat, even more so than Michael had been. Michael had been a Wraith-turned-human. He was not a threat as a human, only once he'd turned back had he really been something to worry about, which was why it would have been better to kill him before he'd had the chance to change back.

Gwen was just like him, though, just like Michael. She was a danger just as she was. He could see it, he knew it. Their lives had been just fine before they'd found her, they'd be just fine without her there.

_-_

_We can take him to the Alpha site. We'll sedate him first so he won't know where it is_, Sheppard had proposed.

_And then what? _Ronon had asked bitterly.

_Continue with the drug treatments,_ Weir had responded without hesitation.

_Continue?_

_Doctor Beckett was about to start increasing the dosage, _Weir had explained._ Hopefully that will be effective in eliminating any remaining Wraith impulses._

_Why are we even talking about this? _Ronon could not believe what he was hearing at the time. _He killed one of your people. Your experiment didn't work. We should kill him right now._

_We can't kill him, Ronon, _Heightmeyere had interjected into the conversation._ We're the ones who put him in this position._

_Hold on a minute, Doc. If we hadn't given him the retrovirus, _Sheppard felt the need to point out the obvious, _he'd still be a Wraith. We wouldn't think twice about killing him._

_But we _did_ give him the retrovirus._ Teyla injected, pointing out their responsibility in the mess they had created._ We made him human. Now _we_ have the responsibility to treat him as we would any other-_

_He's _not_ human, _Ronon had interrupted heatedly._ He's a Wraith._

_-_

Weir rubbed her chin, looking down at Gwen, thinking carefully. They were responsible for Gwen now. They may not have made her like they had made Michael, but they had let her out. By releasing her and giving her back what amounted to her life, they had become responsible for her. They couldn't just do what was easiest in the long run. However….

Michael had been a Wraith. He had looked like a human, but he had still been Wraith. They had forgotten that, trying to cling to the idea he could be changed, that they could put away all that made him a Wraith, give him a new life as a human. The idea they could turn the tide of the war. They had been wrong.

Was Gwen much different from that? She looked like a teenager but, she was still an ultimately uncontrollable weapon. Were they risking making the same mistake they had made with Michael?

_-_

_You want to keep me from learning more about Atlantis. You're afraid that if a Wraith ship comes close enough, I'll communicate with them – tell them you're here. _Michael had looked anguished as he'd continued. _I didn't want to kill him. I just wanted to escape, to get out of this place._

_We would like to continue the drug treatments, _Teyla had told him. _Doctor Beckett believes that an increased dose would fully suppress any Wraith urges you may still be experiencing. The alternative is death._

_-_

Gwen wouldn't betray any information, Teyla knew that, but she couldn't be allowed to leave either. She would have to kill and they did not know if she could stop herself from harming humans. If her situation was desperate enough, she would kill infants. She'd testified to having already done so. The only way to suppress Gwen's need to kill was to give her things to kill. It was a disgusting fact of her biology. And, the more Teyla thought about it…it really did make Gwen more Wraith than human.

Wraith had to suck the life out of their victims to survive.

Gwen had to take a life to release a hormone in her body to negate a toxin.

Teyla bowed her head, covering her face with a hand. She was starting to see things as Ronon saw them. Gwen was just like the Wraith.

_-_

_Even though I saved Colonel Sheppard's life and helped him stop the hives from reaching Earth, you _still_ place me under guard._

_You have betrayed our trust in the past, _Teyla had reminded him in another private conversation they had shared.

_Trust?! I was your prisoner then! And despite what I've done for you, here I am once again. I can't say I'm surprised. I wasn't welcome among my own kind – why should I be welcome here?_

_What are you talking about?_

_She looked at me as if I was some kind of unclean thing. I may appear as a Wraith again on the outside, but as far as they're concerned, I'm..... That is why I need your help._

_What do you want?_

_I can't stay here, and I can't return to the Wraith, which means I need to make my own way, and to do that…. I need supplies and a ship._

_We are grateful for your help, but we can never release you – not with the information you possess._

_Then kill me now!_

_There is another way._

_Take the treatment again._

_Yes._

_What I am is not a disease you can cure._

_-_

Teyla swallowed, dropping her hand, looking down at Gwen. "Michael…asked us to do the same to him the last time he was here. Against his wishes, we gave him the retrovirus and now he plagues us. She may not be a Wraith…but I do not want Gwen to become another Michael. Perhaps…as distasteful as it is, we should listen and grant her, her wish. As Michael said to me, he was not a disease we could cure. Gwen is what she is; we can no more change her than we could change Michael into a human like us."

Sheppard looked at Teyla, understanding what she was saying, understanding completely. It left a bad taste in his mouth, but…in the end…it was really all they could do. It was the most humane thing that could do.

"Even when he was a human," Elizabeth said softly, "he was still a Wraith. But, Gwen isn't-"

"Gwen is no different," Ronon growled, looking down at her. "She's just like a Wraith. Just like Michael."

Carson bowed his head, walking away from the window, unable to look down upon his patient anymore. His chest hurt and eyes burned. He knew they were right, he knew that the basic comparison was more than accurate. It still didn't mean he had to like it. She was still just a child...just as Ellia had been a child. His shoulders slumped as he remembered the fate which had befallen the girl who had been, perhaps, the gentlest Wraith they would ever encounter.

"So…now comes the big question," Mckay said, stepping up to the glass.

"How are we going to kill her?"

* * *

_Here we are, my loyal readers, chapter Nine, and updated on Monday! Sorry it's so long. This was not the easiest one to write, I had to write the beginning four times before I settled on what you have now. My original plan was to never reveal Gwen's past, to keep her a pure enigma. However…kind of need to reveal things and, well, I did take a 2 year hiatus. Think of it as my apology present._

_And, yes, those conversations in italics with Michael are straight from SGA itself, namely the two episodes _Michael & Misbegotten_. Took awhile to get them in there and find the right conversations. I admit they are from the show as a flashback! I did not write those words except for the unitalicized bits for clarification of who was speaking! Everything else in the chapter is mine, but that is not! I admit it! Down here, up there, ok, disclaimed disclaimed discalimed, can I be any more clear? Anyway, the thoughts of the characters kind of reflect how I wish they had gone with the Michael storyline. I am a big fan of Michael and Todd, The writers had a good idea with those two, and they just disappointed me with Michael. And, yes, I am comparing Gwen to Michael. I don't expect you to like it, but fact is fact. Gwen is like a Wraith. Anyway, until next week my lovelies._


	10. Falling Rain

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. If I did, it would not have had a series finale.  
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* * *

  
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**Chapter Ten**

_Falling Rain_

Doctor Carson Beckett had a deadline, and quite literally. About five days, five days and a few hours before all his work would be for nothing. It was for nothing he had argued with as much passion and volume as he could muster against the decision to grant Gwen her, ironically, dying wish. Sheppard had reminded them of Michael, a point Ronon had already accepted and Teyla battled with, and while Carson did not deny the similarities of the two situations, nor did he deny Gwen's Wraith-like design, he dared remind them of Ellia. She had been a Wraith as well, a future Queen at that, which made her arguably more dangerous. However, she had been raised by Zaddik, taught the different between right and wrong, learned to love, learned to feel guilt over how she had to feed. She had been a good child, a sweet girl who had taken the retrovirus to become human to change what she was for herself. It had killed her in the end, but it proved that Ellia had seen another way. There had to be one for Gwen.

What was that other way Weir had asked him, and Carson had been silent, unable to answer the question. However, as they had begun to hesitantly discuss Gwen's request, it had come to Carson quite suddenly, and he nearly kicked himself for missing the most obvious solution before them.

"_What did Michael and Ellia have in common?"_

_The others turned to look at Carson quizzically. "They were Wraith?" Ronon supplied, it being the obvious answer._

_Carson shook his head, "No. The retrovirus! They both took it, with quite different results, but they both took it."_

"_What are you trying to get at, Carson?" Elizabeth inquired, her mind already feeling crowded with what was going on and his arguments from earlier. She quite honestly did not want to make this decision; it wasn't exactly in her job description…was it?_

"_Michael and Ellia both took the retrovirus, which is what would have kept them human, at least, if it had been ready when Ellia took it and if Michael had accepted it. If we're going to compare Gwen to Michael…all I need to do is synthesize the hormone. If I can synthesize it, then it would just mean she'd need an injection every three days. She'd be like a diabetic on insulin."_

_The room was very quiet as they stared at Carson. Sheppard broke it, however, by punching the doctor in the arm, "What took you so long to think of that?"_

"_Bad writing?" Carson joked, and then looked to Elizabeth. "At least let me try, it's better than the alternative."_

_Weir looked down to Gwen, then to Carson, "Go ahead, do whatever you need to, take whatever resources and personnel you need." The woman paused; peering at the girl sitting in the middle of the room, toying with the player Rodney had gifted her. "You have…until the toxin kills her."_

_Carson had swallowed. It had been the execution method Gwen had supplied. 'I want…things to run their course' had been her exact wording. As he stood there facing Weir, his mind working desperately to think of ways to save her, he knew she was already dying. Carson left the room without a word, rushing to his lab. He could hear Rodney hurrying after him. Carson welcomed his company. He knew he couldn't do this alone._

"How's it coming, Doc?"

Carson looked up as Sheppard entered the lab, looking a little more than ruffled and unnerved. Carson sighed, glancing to his left and back where Rodney was hissing with Radek. The other scientist had offered his services, which Carson had graciously accepted much to Rodney's chagrin. There were quite a number of personnel wanting to assist (word traveled very fast in the city), but there was only so much drama Carson could take. He'd picked a total of seven others, not including Atlantis' personal Abbot and Costello.

"I've barely begun, Colonel. If you're looking for a miracle, I'll have to disappoint ye."

Sheppard sighed, sitting down, running his fingers through his spiky hair. "Come on, Doc," he sighed, "throw me some sort of bone. I just had a rough two hours. I need some good news."

Beckett did not look up from his work. "Can I assume she's been moved, then?"

Sheppard nodded, "Yeah…she's been moved. Made it as comfortable for her as possible. Elizabeth said a mattress and blankets would be enough. Given how smart the girl is supposed to be, she was afraid she might figure out how to use a cot to escape."

McKay turned around from where he had been discussing matters with Zelenka. "I don't doubt it," he said, walking up to his leader and friend. "Her survival instinct is remarkably strong. She might figure out how to use a mattress. I know I could."

"Humility is not in your vocabulary, is it?" Radek retorted from his computer, scrolling through the data they had on the girl's physiology. Rodney pointedly ignored the remark, dignifying his colleague with only a snort. Radek chuckled to himself, smirking behind the computer screen.

"Well," Carson replied, looking up, "If ye' brought me a fresh blood sample, I may be able to give ye' a bone, lad."

With a small smile, Sheppard reached into his pocket, pulling out two vials of blood he'd taken from the girl. He passed it over to the doctor.

"Thank you," Carson responded, taking it carefully and moving away. He began to narrate to the Colonel what was going to happen. They were all worried about the girl. She was just a child after all, a child who in an instant had shown her true nature. She was still child-like and animalistic, but had such great maturity. However…perhaps her maturity was really grim acceptance of who and what she was, for she had shown clear understanding of for what she had been created. Nothing was black and white, the shades of gray ever changing.

"Considering' she very recently activated the hormone, this sample should make it possible for me to isolate it at its strongest and synthesize it for her. If all goes well, we should very well have a means for her to gain a more normal life on a physical level. What I cannot do is change how her mind works. She's not only been condition and programmed, but I believe some of it involves her genetics."

Sheppard wrinkled his nose, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well," Radek voiced from his corner, "from what Rodney and I have been able to hypothesize fro-"

"He wants the short version, Zelenka," Rodney interrupted. Radek glared at his friend, but was quiet. He knew nobody should ever try and steal the 'great' Rodney McKay's thunder. "What he means to say is that as carefully designed as her physical attributes are, it seems to us that they were also able to design how her brain ran itself. We suspect they figured out a way to put in basically fail-safe's in her mind to prevent too much free will. It seems to us right now that while Gwen can think anything she wants, she can't always say it. Which explains how she was talking to us; she apparently learned before we met her to say what she wants to by carefully wording her sentences."

"That's just…odd. Why would they do something like that? So she can't think for herself and backtalk like a normal kid?"

"Most likely. It also explains why she seems so emotionless. She can learn an emotion or action and identify it for what it is, like fear, but it doesn't manifest itself in her like it does us if it ultimately serves no positive purpose."

Sheppard shook his head, "But she's been afraid. She was scared when she was running away from us."

"I said manifest like is does in us, normal people. She knows what fear is and can feel it, but it manifests properly when it serves a positive purpose. Fear of death is a positive emotion; it fuels her survival instinct. Now something like a fear of, let's say, spiders, isn't. It's pointless. Why be afraid of an arachnid when you can just step on it? Guns aren't meant to have feelings."

Sheppard stared at Rodney blankly. "I think," he said slowly, "I am thoroughly confused."

"Now ye' know where we're standing, lad," Carson said from over his shoulder. "The more we delve into this, the more complicated it gets. This isn't an easy situation in all respects."

"That's not what I mean," John interrupted. "I mean…she knows how to have fun. She knows what joy is. She was smiling when we played football. She enjoys music. She prefers the green Jell-O over the blue. And I swear I heard her laugh one time. Wouldn't you call all that rather pointless for a gun?"

McKay shrugged, scratching at his ear. From his corner, Radek dared speak once more. "Like we said, Colonel, it is not simple and not simply solved. Her creators referred to her as a part of a group of anomalies. She isn't like us, but she also isn't 100% they way they meant for her to be, and we've further corrupted her. What we have done is introduced her to things outside of the controlled environment of her childhood. We treated her like a normal child. Perhaps we unknowingly allowed for growth where, in her former environment, there would have never been such opportunities. No green Jell-O as it were. "

Carson turned around to look at Sheppard, "I think we should think of it this way, Colonel. Ellia had a base design and way of thinking. Had she grown up in the environment intended for her, she would have turned out much different from the lass we met. However, she grew up treated as an adopted child, as a human girl. She was shown love and care, taught right and wrong, compassion. While she could not overcome her need to feed, she felt remorse."

"You seemed determined to compare Gwen to Ellia," Sheppard observed. "This isn't some way for you to feel like you can atone for her death? It wasn't your fault you know."

Beckett half smiled. "Perhaps," he admitted softly, "but they are so similar. We've offered Gwen a new life and way of looking at the world. Who knows what she could become. With a synthesized hormone injection, we could give her an opportunity to become someone, not a weapon to use."

"She could turn on us, Carson."

Beckett held the colonel's gaze and responded firmly, "You don't believe that any more than I do. Now, I must return to work."

Just like that, the conversation was over. Sheppard had to admit, while he didn't like thinking of Gwen as another Michael and much preferred thinking of her as an Ellia, there was still the fact she was very Wraith-like and very much a real danger to the city. He had such a fondness for her it made him ill to think she could destroy the entire city if she so chose. They had her locked up like an animal now, playing the waiting game. If Carson couldn't make a hormone substitute, then she was going to die.

Ronon had already resigned himself to Gwen's Wraith-like qualities. John envied the man's ability to seemingly cut his attachment so coolly. Everyone else seemed to be the one's struggling with the idea. They all knew it, saw it, recognized it…but she was just a child. She had had no choice in how she'd been born, what she'd been designed to do. John sincerely hoped Carson found a cure, found a way to save her. Until then…Sheppard had to try and detach himself. If she was older, maybe it would be easier, but to look to this child who had so completely and willingly put her trust in him to protect her, who had used her strength to rescue those children…Ellia hadn't been a bad kid and Todd…well, his 'Wraith brother' wasn't too bad either. Though, when it all boiled down to it, Ellia and Todd were still Wraith, and Gwen was still a weapon.

Why couldn't things in Pegasus ever be simple?

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Gwen awoke on a mass of blankets atop a mattress on the floor. Stiff and sore, she sat up, looking at her wrists and ankles, now unbound. She reached up, running her fingers through her short hair. They'd cut it after the incident in the Jumper bay. Why, she didn't know, they just had. She didn't mind…short hair could not be grabbed. As her senses collected, she looked up and around her new location. Very slowly, she stood, looking at the bars of her new cage, one which seemed far less welcoming from her former four-walled room. She reached out, to see if her hand would pass through the bars and was met with a shock going up her arm. This was Ancient technology, not Wraith. The girl shook her hand, looking around, her eyes piercing through the dim, blue-lighted glow of the room. She smiled.

"So, I have been moved?"

"Yes," Teyla responded, stepping forward, closer to the bars. She had been waiting for the girl to awaken. "It is for your protection."

"And it is for yours," Gwen responded. "That other room would not have held me."

"And this will hold you?"

"Not if you open the door," Gwen replied with a strange smile. It sent a shiver down Teyla's spine. Gwen looked down at her bed, noticing a thin cord. She bent down, uncovering it, then picked up the player Rodney had given her. The girl tilted her head, and then looked back to Teyla. "You…allow me to keep this?"

"It is yours. Rodney gave it to you; it is not ours to take."

"I could use it to escape."

"You will not."

"How do you know? Once I become desperate enough, you cannot order me to do anything."

"Music is too precious to you," Teyla replied confidently. "I do not believe you will destroy that which you treasure. Is that not why you warn us of what you are capable"

Gwen swallowed, biting down on her lip as she gazed at the other woman. Her words sounded carefully chosen as she responded, "I merely inform you of my superiority in comparison to your natural and weak design." The girl looked away from Teyla, carefully pocketing the device after turning it on and placing the headphones around her neck. She could hear the music play through the foam and she felt comforted. Music was…remarkable. There was silence between the two for a moment before Gwen broke it, locking eyes with Teyla.

"Who is Michael?"

Teyla was startled. "Where did you hear of this name?"

"From you and the others," she replied with a shrug. "I could hear you talking from behind the glass." She smiled, "I have very good hearing when I make an effort."

Teyla raised her brows, nodding slowly, "Why do you wish to know of him?"

"You compared me to him." Gwen walked forward, stopping at the bars in front of the Athosian. "I want to know why you compare us. Tell me who he is; tell me why we are so similar."

The silence was long as Teyla considered, and in the end decided there was little harm. She told Gwen how they had come up with the plan, how they had captured the Wraith commander and named him Michael Kenmore. She told Gwen of the procedure, its progression, how when Michael had awoken as a human he had had no memories of who he was, who he had been. She told Gwen how he had been haunted by his dreams, how even though he had been human he had still sensed the unquenchable Wraith hunger. Teyla told Gwen how Michael had come to learn the truth, how he'd tried to escape, and what had happened to him afterward. She told Gwen of Michael's escape plan, of her kidnapping and of their brief discussion and Michael's brief hesitancy to feed upon her. Teyla went on to tell Gwen of their second encounter with Michael, their wary brief alliance with his new Queen, the betrayal of the Queen and how Michael had helped Sheppard, Ronon, and McKay escape and convert the Wraith on the two ships to humans. She told Gwen of how they had deliberated over what to do with Michael, choosing to again give him the retrovirus and turn him into a human though he had expressed death as a better alternative. Teyla spoke of the events following, how the human Wraiths had become suspicious and later began to revert back.

"Is he still alive?" Gwen asked when Teyla had finished.

"We do not believe so."

"But you do not know for certain," Gwen said flatly. She paused for a moment. "You should have killed him when he told you to."

"We did not desire to kill him; we wished to give him a new life, a better life, one free of a Wraith's hunger and malice."

Gwen's red eyes bore into Teyla's. "You dare condemn those who created me, who designed me as they did to protect themselves from the Wraith when you are no better than they? You dared change him to your own specifications. You cannot change Wraith anymore than you can change me, though you want to try. You should do to me what you failed to do to Michael, for it would be strategically better for you." She paused and lifted her head, "Everything must die. Better to die as you are than as one wants you to be."

"The Wraith are a plague; if we could develop a way so we can live in harmony-"

"Humans do not live in harmony!" Gwen snapped with such bitterness it surprised the woman. She felt uneasy as Gwen continued, wondering from where this spiteful tone came from. "You fight each other over petty disputes as you fight the Wraith for your lives. Why should a Wraith desire to be as you are? Look at me; you compare me to a Wraith. If humans were truly better than they, why am I more like them than you? Why was I made more like a Wraith?"

"You are more human than you know," Teyla responded firmly. "You may be like a Wraith, but you are human."

"Your eyes betray you," Gwen responded, "you are not sure you believe your own words. If you compare me to Wraith, then you see me also as Wraith."

"We are going to do everything we can to help you," the woman assured the girl. "Doctor Beckett is working on a synthesized hormone, one which would replace your need to kill to survive."

Gwen smiled grimly, "You would do to me what you did to Michael? Change my nature?"

"We would help you, give you the chance to become more than you are. It is an opportunity to grow beyond, to have free will of choice, to grow just as a regular child."

"And what if I refuse? What if I say no? Would you force it upon me?" When Teyla did not respond, Gwen turned around and walked to the middle of the cell, looking upwards as she contemplated. "You would, you see me as a child who needs to be cared for. Let us say the Doctor succeeds…what would then happen to me?"

Teyla tilted her head, "You would stay with us. Once you are old enough, you could join a team. Your abilities would prove to be an asset against the Wraith. Or you could return to the mainland and live among my people."

Gwen turned her head slightly, voicing over her shoulder, "Would I have…a family?"

"Perhaps," Teyla replied with a nod, "I am certain one of my people would take you in and care for you as their own child."

"What if I chose to remain here?"

Teyla smiled, "There are many who would willingly care for you."

"I did not ask if anyone would care for me. I asked if I would have a family. Like Xia."

Teyla's face softened, wanting to reach out and embrace the girl comfortingly. However, she knew that would be a mistake. She could try and escape again, and if not that, perhaps some other plan. Gwen sounded sincere, though, truly like an orphan child. All Teyla could do was smile and nod. "Yes…you would have a very large family; aunts and uncles-"

"Someone to call Mother and Father?" Gwen interrupted suddenly, turning around quickly to look Teyla in the eye.

Startled, Teyla did not respond immediately, however she found her tongue, answering in a soothing manner. "If you wanted. Do you…have someone in mind?"

"Perhaps," Gwen said quickly, turning back around. "However, it does not matter. I do not foresee being able to have such a life…."

As she trailed off, Teyla smiled sadly. "Do not despair; Doctor Beckett is very skilled and determined."

Gwen chuckled, and then turned to look at Teyla. "Perhaps he is, perhaps he is endeavoring in the futile. Should this be the case, I…opening these doors would be a grave mistake."

Teyla nodded, then hesitantly voiced question which had been in her mind for some time. "Should you progress to the point where the toxin is no longer negated…what will happen to you?"

"You want to know how I will die." Gwen turned around, folding her arms across her slender chest. It was a most uncomfortable subject. She remembered what it had been like, that one time they'd let her feel it, to make her understand how much she needed them to order her, what it would be like to dare disobedience. "It begins on the inside; the toxin will begin to destroy every blood cell in my body, one by one, taking its place in my blood stream. Parts of my brain will begin to shut down in an attempt to survive and protect that which is most important. I will grow weak until I can barely move and cold, suffering from seizures and convulsions. I will lose my senses as my brain shuts down; I will forget speech first, then touch followed by sight and hearing. I will try and scream, but won't know how. Once I lose consciousness that is the point of no return. From what I was told, after that my blood pressure will rise until my heart can not possibly pump anymore because it is trying to find what blood might be left in my veins. Then I am dead after this takes about three agonizing days."

It was shocking how calmly Gwen spoke of her impending demise. It was less than pleasant and Teyla could not imagine what such a fate must be like. Gwen knew all of this, and yet she desired it? It would indeed be kinder to spare her, to execute her themselves. "If you lose ability to see or hear, or are even move, how is it unconsciousness is the point at which you cannot be saved?"

Gwen smiled, "My need to live is as strong as the hunger a Wraith feels. As long as I am conscious, I can find the strength. I will find the strength. Which is why, should I remain in here long enough and grow to that point, opening the door would be ill-advised strategically for you. Serpents, even after they die, can still strike a man."

"Even at the brink of death…you can still kill."

"Oh yes, and once I do, what he toxin has done is undone with such speed…I would kill you all for trying to kill me." Gwen smiled in the face of Teyla's expression, taking a step closer to the bars. "You would have to first open the door."

Teyla nodded, telling herself to inform the others once she left. There was one last question she had for the girl, one of mere curiosity. "Gwen…should it be possible, somehow, someway…would you not desire…a different life for yourself? Would you not desire the freedom to choose your own path? Have your own dreams?"

"Freedom to choose…?" Gwen said slowly, as though tasting the strange concept on her tongue. She trailed off, her brow furrowed as she placed the headphones over her ears, turning her back to Teyla as she wandered over to the bed on the floor.

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The next 48 hours were more stressful than Carson had imagined. With the help of Rodney, Radek, and a select few doctors and scientists, the race began to synthesize an artificial hormone replacement. Carson was driven, determined; the life of a child hung in the balance, a child who seemed determined to allow herself to die a horrific suicide for the sake of the city and its people. As noble and altruistic it may have seemed, if Carson could spare Gwen her chosen fate he would do so. She had no idea what she was giving up.

It had been unnerving the drastic change in her personality. She had come to them a frightened child, almost like a babe who had not yet found their legs. She had been curious and gentle, hiding her secrets and her voice. As Carson stared at his screen, he recalled how she would wait for John, Rodney, or Teyla by hiding under his desk playing with his shoe strings. One of the nurses had brought in crayolas and paper. Carson had the box on his desk, the crayons worn down so much from Gwen's art. She had not drawn anything in particular, but covered the sheets of paper in colorful mosaics. He had all of those paper sheets as well in a file on his desk under the crayons. Gwen had been such a child, a wee thing with no idea of where she was, who she was with and, seemingly, little idea of who she was.

He had been wrong to think that; she had known all along and she had hidden it. The change had come so suddenly and, as Carson reflected on her child's smile, the innocent curiosity of her new surroundings, he realized that Gwen was gone. The child she had been had vanished, her guise shed, replaced by a living and intelligent weapon. She knew what she was, what she was capable of, and what she would be driven to do should the situation call for it. Carson did not deny her power, her strength, he did not deny her purpose for having been created, nor did he deny that, should they even succeed in making a hormone replacement, that she would still be that weapon. What Carson refused to accept, however, was that that was all she was; he believed she could be more if given the chance and, given how many were willing to help in making a hormone replacement, he knew he was not the only one.

The child she had been, however, was still there in a way, he believed this to be true. Her mannerisms may have changed to reveal her true self, but the curiosity, the innocence, the demeanor of a little girl who had an entire world to explore, a little girl who knew nothing of war and death, she had to still remain, if only slightly. She was mostly human after all; there were some things that were distinct to intelligent life. She had to have her own hopes and dreams…he wished she could have a chance to try and see them come true, or maybe even experience the heartache that comes with bitter failure. Even that would be better than her programmed existence.

"Carson!"

The doctor looked up as Rodney called his name, waving the Scotsman over. Beckett stood, rushing over to his friend's side, peering at the screen. He listened closely as Rodney rambled on, partially excited, partially deflated. Carson was only vaguely aware of the sandwich that lay close by Mckay's keyboard. Teyla had taken it upon herself to keep Carson and his team from starving. Ronon and Sheppard wandered in and out of the laboratory, but mostly kept out of the room, opting for guard duty at Gwen's cell. Sheppard kept Carson apprised of Gwen's state, promising to alert him as soon as the girl showed the first signs of her body's bearkdown.

"It looks promising, Rodney," Carson said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Let's see if that's the right composition."

McKay nodded, turning to Radek, firing off rapid speech to the other scientist. Carson looked at the others in the room, bent over their prospective projects, discussing theories, chewing on the food Teyla had brought them. A couple he could see had fallen asleep in their chairs, sitting up at that. He contemplated telling them to go to bed, get some rest, but he wasn't up for the fight. He would wait for Weir to do that when she came to check in a few hours. They were running out of time, after all.

It had almost been three days since her slaughter of the trilldogs. It wouldn't be long before Sheppard would contact Carson on the radio to tell him what he would already know.

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Okay, so...random updates are better. I had a bad case of writers block, especially since I realized how many holes there were in the story. I think I covered them, though...maybe. This is what you get from writing fanfic and taking your time about it. Anyway, enjoy, the next chapter is in progress and on it's way. I hope you all have been enjoying the story; not the best out there, but thanks for taking the time to read it anyway. Until the next chapter!


	11. Ephemeral

**Holding the Snow**

Tarshearma

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Stargate Atlantis. No profit has been made from writing this. _

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**Chapter Eleven**

_Ephemeral _

A sharp pain cut through her stomach, catching Gwen off guard as she sat on the makeshift bed, her hearing filled with the music. The teen double over, feeling a sharp flash of cold crawl up her spine and down through her arms. The MP3 player fell from her hand, skidding a few inches across the floor. She gripped at her sides, growling in pain. Her forehead stuck the floor as she fell forward, rolling to her side in a futile attempt to curl into the fetal position. The sharp pain spread from her gut through her extremities, the cold making her arms and hands feel still and heavy. She ground her teeth, grinding down on her own tongue. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth, making a small puddle under her white cheek.

"…John…Teyla…" she ground out pleadingly, hardly making the sounds of their names. John had promised to be there when it began, promise to call Carson at the first sign. Another sharp pain cut through her chest and she gasped, grabbing at her breast, long fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt. "…John," she called again, this time a bit louder, gasping out like a fish drowning in the air. Slowly, the pain subsided and she lay on her side, the cold still filling her arms. The headphones had fallen to around her neck, the soothing tones reaching her sensitive ears. They brought her little comfort as she peered outside of her cell, watching as a marine radioed Carson.

"John…" she whispered, closing her eyes. This was the beginning and he had promised to be there, just as Carson had promised to come running as soon as he got the call. Colonol Sheppard had promised to be there.

As she lay there, she remembered the first time she had ever heard about a promise. She had been very young, perhaps four if he memory served her well. She had been in the care of Feeler, the older female responsible for Gwen's care and training. Feeler had been, Gwen supposed, very close to the definition of a mother. Feeler had been very wise, her ability giving her a gift of knowing more than normal, reading into the mind of her foe. Gwen had asked her once if Feeler could read into the minds of their keepers, but she had not answered. Gwen supposed the answer had been yes, it must have been. Feeler had known about things Gwen did not, like promises and what they meant. Feeler had explained what it was, a word bond, unable to be broken by tangible means. Feeler had promised to protect Gwen, and train her to survive.

Feeler had done her job well; she had kept her promise and Gwen had survived the Elimination, grown on to become Reaper. Feeler had even been there when they had staged the coup, protecting Gwen and the other young soldiers she had cared for, alerting them of their enemy's thoughts and movements. Feeler had kept her promise until the end. Try as she might, though, Gwen could not remember what had happened to Feeler. She remembered being held by two, strong, purged soldiers and Feeler had been on the floor, a projectile weapon jammed into her neck. Then…then there were the sounds of Darts.

Gwen couldn't understand why she couldn't remember what had happened after she'd heard the Darts. In the lonely hours she sat with only the music as her companion, she would keep her eyes closed and try to remember the single event which eluded her conscious memory. She supposed the memory was somewhere; something must have happened between the sounds of Darts and waking up among the people of Atlantis. She had been placed in one of the pods after all, and she was the only one left alive of those who had been in the pods. She wondered who the others had been. Had Feeler been in a pod as well?

In light of the pain she knew she would endure, it seemed only natural to try and distract herself. What better form of distraction than determinably trying to recall and seemingly lost memory? It was not really important to her what was missing; she could recall what was important, and really her past was less important than her present and immediate future. The lost memory was unimportant, but had been enough of a distraction. Now, though, now it had begun and there was no denying what would take place.

Another sharp pain spread through her chest and she cried out in surprise, gripping her chest. The toxin was starting its deadly course through her delicate system. She knew the pain she now felt would fade, but it would return again and again with such violence it would drive her to a near frenzy.

"…John…."

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**Five Hours Earlier**

"You can't expect us to just leave her, do you?"

"John, as much as I dislike having to ask-"

"Then send someone else, some other team! Any minute, that little girl is going to start deteriorating. We're the only thing she's got right now, and I will not leave her with people she doesn't know!"

"I will be here, and so will Carson and Radek; she won't be alone John. But I need you and your team to-"

"We made a promise to her to do everything we could to help her, and I made-"

"Colonel Sheppard! As much as I admire you resolution, there are more important things than holding a dying girl's hand." Weir swallowed, leaning back in her chair as she processed her own, cold words, however true they might have been. As much as they wanted to help their new resident, as special as she had become in her own way to each one of them, they were in Pegasus for a reason. They also had duties and responsibilities that needed to be carried out, regardless. "She is not your responsibility, John; she isn't your little sister, your niece, or your daughter. I need you and your team to be the ones to go. The people of Rathos know and trust you, and we need to keep at peace with them. If we lose our treaty with them, we make an enemy who could cut off our supply line to many peoples. I'm sorry…but you should know as a soldier we must make sacrifices."

"She's going to die, Elizabeth, and she's going to die a very painful death alone. I can't just leave her."

Weir bit her lip, slowly shaking her head. As she had said once to Kavanagh, Atlantis was more or less a colony and she was governor. As much as she wanted to give in, she knew she could not. She needed John and his team to go, accompanied by Major Lorne's team, to go to Rathos. She could not let herself be swayed. She was governor, and sometimes she had to make hard decisions in opposition to what was desired. Weir lifted her head, holding Sheppard's pleading gaze. "John, I need you to do this. I'm sorry, but you illicit a sense of trust in people, and I need you to go because of the trust you gained. Our responsibilities to the city and the overall wellbeing of her people come before our personal agendas. Gwen is but one person, and you made a promise to this city long before you made a promise to Gwen, to a girl who has asked us to let her die. You have an hour before you need to leave."

John swallowed, lifting his chin. "Yes, Ma'am," he said in response as he turned on his heel. Perhaps it was childish, and while he knew she was right and he knew how important relations with the people of Rathos were, he couldn't help but be angry.

"And John," Weir said, causing him to pause with his back to her in the doorway. "The sooner you solve the problem, the sooner you'll be back."

She watched as he continued to stalk away, reminding her of a little boy almost. Except, this little boy hadn't been denied a shiny, new, toy car but rather to stay where he felt he should. John's sense of loyalty was sometimes staggering, his sense of what should be done and how it should be done occasionally conflicting with hers. He was a man to be admired and respected, but everything couldn't go his way, and she knew he knew he had to do what was best for the city as a whole first.

Elizabeth sat back in her chair, staring unseeingly at her computer screen. The Colonel was right, though. At any moment, they were waiting for the report that Gwen had begun her spiral into an internal suicide. That was pretty much what had the girl had asked of them; to let her let her body kill her. She had fought the trilldogs in the late evening, early morning hours on the mainland. Slowly the time was gaining to when it would be three days from that time. They did not know if the toxin triggered at the mark of exactly three days, or if was about that time. In any case, it would not be long until word began to spread.

Weir glanced to her right, to a box resting on the table in the corner. Standing, she walked over to it, and then placed her hand inside, picking up several scraps of paper. They were the collection of names that had not been picked on that day they had given the girl a name. Susan. Tamika. Noa. Alex. Lyra. Joe. Tucker. Gertrude. Sakura. Mary. Maria. The collection was rather large and some of the names were ridiculous. Someone had suggested Kid, and another thought Lemming was appropriate. Lost Girl was another of the odd ones, accompanied by Lassie. Most were handwritten, but the one Gwen had chosen had been typed. Gwen. It seemed to suit her. No one but the one who had placed it in the box knew they had submitted the chosen name. Weir had not been the one to do so, and she was fairly certain if anyone of John's team had placed it, they would have said something, especially Rodney or John, if just to crow in the other's face for a couple hours.

Gwen. It was such a suitable name for the girl who had only been known by either a code on her back or a murderous field designation to describe her method of slaughter. If Weir recalled correctly, the name meant white, or fair. She smiled to herself as she peered at the name-filled box. The girl certainly was white; there was no denying her lack of skin pigmentation. There was another meaning, blessed, and Weir's face fell slightly. She was not sure if blessed was just as appropriate. Gwen had certainly not led a blessed life, unless just the fact she survived was enough. Then again…to be found and rescued from the pod before it failed and to now know what a real life could be like….

"Blessed indeed," Weir said, dropping the papers back into the box. "Carson will find the cure…and you'll be healthy and waiting when they return. This time…we'll have a happy ending."

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Sheppard marched ahead of his team and Lorne's, up the forest path to the village. He had gathered his team quickly and left Atlantis, telling himself over and over again that this would be an easy fix and they would all be back in a few hours. However, given they were taking two teams, and dragging Rodney along, told him he was fooling himself. He had been fooling himself as soon as he stalked from Weir's office, fooling himself in thinking he would be back in time to keep his promise. He'd left without a goodbye. He wasn't sure if it was for selfish reasons, or to make things easier on her. In retrospect, it probably would have been better to have said good bye, to tell her where they were going, that she wasn't being abandoned.

Though he found the current situation ridiculous, he could not argue with the need of his presence. Rathos was an odd planet with odd people. The sky was naturally a peculiar shade of violet and it rained. A lot. The trees were mostly coniferous, containing a rather strong and sticky resin, three times the "goopy stickiness" (Sheppard's descriptive phrase) of Earth's trees. They were also rather large and fat. Major Lorne had commented on the first time he had accompanied Sheppard and his team to Rathos, that the Redwood forest had nothing on these trees, such was their girth. The trees apparently had a lot more than that going for them as they were the talk of the Atlantis botanists even after three months. However, just what was still so amazing about a pine tree with rectangular pine cones the size of a tire was beyond Sheppard, probably because he didn't pay any attention in those kinds of meetings. As for the other trees and plants, they were pretty average for a planet in Pegasus.

The planet was also not a very flat place, but it had many wide open areas. According to the local people, the uneven meadows were more or less death traps during the time of Wraith cullings. The darts herded the people in fear out into the open and, once in the meadow, the dips and rises slowed down their running progress, making them easy prey. Shelter caves had been carved into the hills by hand and still other places of concealment had been carved into the pine trees themselves. They fit about ten people, for safety measures should they be found by Wraith drones. The fewer people found in a tree shelter the better. What was a haven could also serve as a trap. The people of Rathos were a pretty clever people, if not argumentative and arrogant. _Come to think of it, _Sheppard thought as they walked, _this is pretty much a planet full of McKays…why didn't I notice that earlier?_

Upon first meeting them, they had been rather distrustful of a group of strangely clad strangers claiming to have come from the City of the Ancestors. Winning them over had taken two weeks' worth of work for Sheppard and his team. Ironically, it had taken a shouting match with the chief to seal the deal; apparently they respected people who would look them in the eye and inform them they were being unreasonable. Either that, it was the threat of lost contact with Atlantis could offer in exchange for alliance, trade, and shelter on the part of Rathos. Regardless, an alliance had been made with the understanding that Sheppard and his team served as liaison between Atlantis and Rathos.

As the current situation stood, the people were attempting to carve out a new shelter cave and had suffered a cave-in. While none had been injured or killed, they had contact Atlantis for aid in not only trying again but to repair what they called a Life Hider. It was a piece of Ancient technology which had put Rodney in an absolute tizzy. The device effectively concealed a given amount of life signs from Wraith sensors. There were a limited number of these devices and the one they were going to place in the new cave had been damaged beyond their ability to repair during the cave in. Rodney was being dragged along to repair the device while the rest, Sheppard supposed, provided aid to dig the cave out. It was a ridiculous situation; Rodney could have come all by himself to repair the device, there was no real need to offer themselves as manual labor, but…the alliance being what it was, they were to provide help where they could in return for what Rathos had to offer.

When it all boiled down, however, this would not take a few hours. As it seemed to stand right now, it looked like it would at least be an overnight mission. Sheppard looked behind and waved Rodney to jog up. The other man hussled, panting heavily as he attempted to match Sheppard's pace.

"Rodney…when we get there, I want you to work as fast as you can and get that thing fixed Scotty style, got it?"

McKay opened his mouth to snark moodily back, then closed it and nodded.

From the rear of the group, Teyla looked to the darkening sky, not from the time of day, but from the impending rain clouds. She blinked slowly, then back to the side, peering at the impressive pine trees. As the party broke from the tree cover out into the open of an uneven field, they were less than five minutes from the village and even closer to an uneasy feeling settling in Teyla's stomach. She didn't know why, but she had a feeling they should turn around. She could only figure it was because back home, Gwen now lay dying.

Teyla bowed her head, recalling how Gwen had so matter of factly described how her body would be consumed by the toxin. Teyla could only wonder if she was at least comfortable, and she could only hope they would return home in time to say goodbye.

----------------------

"Talk to me Carson," Weir demanded, her tone stressed and concerned.

Beckett sat slumped in the chair at his desk, holding his head in his hand. As soon as the marine had radioed Beckett with the news he'd been dreading, the doctor had abandoned his post to rush down to the brig. The scene he had come upon had chilled him to the core and the hardened marines had been up against the wall, their weapons trained on the cell which contained Gwen.

_Carson heard her howl as soon as he'd entered the hallway, the sound chilling the air. It was hard to describe, like a mix of a mourning dirge, desperation, and rage. To his credit, the howl had not deterred him, but instead hastened his steps to the cell. Once he saw her, that is when his steps had stilled and he had joined the marines in frozen, if not terrified stupor. Gwen was, for all intents and purposes, very much still innocent. Granted she knew many ways to kill her enemies, and had a drive to do so, but to look at her…she was still just a young woman who had so much to learn. Her features were still soft, unmarred by her escapades in the battlefield, giving her the appearance of a child and less of a soldier. Carson would not have used the word 'angelic' to describe Gwen, but rather innocuous. However, upon entering the bay, neither word could have been used by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, she seemed more like a devil._

_Sweat plastered her newly cut hair to her forehead, and he could tell it was sweat from how the dim, blue lights shone on her. Her red eyes were wild as she threw herself at the cage, the force field crackling each time she did so. She threw herself at all sides, howling her haunting call. She paused once, when she saw Carson, then threw herself once more at the force field and then clawed at the electricity, as though her clipped nails could have broken through. Her body began to shake from constant exposure to the field and she finally backed off for a moment, and then ran at it again, pounding with her fists._

"_Let me out!" she howled, beating upon the field before letting out a blood curling scream so loud it forced all to cover their ears. Gwen stumbled back a few paces then collapsed to the floor, curling up into the fetal position. She grabbed at her chest, her head, her stomach, each in turn before grabbing hold of her arm and digging her short nails into her skin. Her nails cut through from the mere pressure, the blood rolling down her arm even as her body tried to heal the punctures over. _

_Carson came from his stupor, rushing to the left side of the cage, the side nearest where Gwen had fallen. Every part of him wanted to order the marines to open the door, but he knew they couldn't. If this is what it would be like in the beginning, then there was no telling how much more crazed she could become, how much more dangerous. Carson went to all fours, peering through the horizontal bars in at the girl._

"_Gwen! Gwen, lass, can you hear me?"_

_Gwen peered up slowly, her sweat soaked face looking paler than normal, the veins in her face almost visible in the dim light. Her eyes were glazed in pain, her lips quivering uncontrollably. "Car…Carson," she said, her voice a weak whisper, begging, and, as a tear rolled from her eye, Carson realized she was crying. "Carson…it…let me…let me out…please…."_

"_I can't do that, love."_

"_I will not…I…I will not…hurt anyone…I will not. Take…take me to…let me…the mainland…I can hunt…I will…hunt…I will hunt the dogs…please…let me…let me out."_

_Carson's chest ached, the weight on his shoulders making him sag. She was in such pain he couldn't know if she was speaking clearly, or even thinking straight. She had made it perfectly clear once the toxin started to go through her system, to open the door would be to their disadvantage, strategically speaking. Weir had said she would only allow them to open once they had the synthesized hormone, a hormone Carson had not yet made. However…perhaps what she said could have merit. They could take her to the mainland, let her hunt the dogs. However, even if they did that, she would remember they had put her in a cage before the toxin began to claim her, to protect them, and to let her die as she wished. Carson felt helpless._

"_There are no dogs to hunt," he said, "I'm sorry, lass. Just a little more time, I'll have the cure for you. I promise I'll get it made, and I'll make the pain go away."_

_Gwen let out a shuddering breath, tears in her eyes. "I will," she cried, "I will kill you."_

_The words were like a punch in the gut. Beckett swallowed and nodded. "I know, if I open the doors you will, and I would not blame you."_

_Gwen closed her eyes, swallowing as she rolled onto her back, laying spread eagle. There was a moment of silence, and then she let out a sigh of relief. "The pain," she said slowly, "it is gone…for now." She looked back over to Beckett, locking her eyes with his. "Do you really think you can make a cure, Doctor? Do you really think it can be done?"_

"_Yes," he answered without hesitation, "it can be made, and I will see to it, it is made in time. I promise you, this is not how you will die."_

_Gwen half smiled, "You cannot tell me how I will die." She paused, "Where is John? And Teyla? And Rodney? And Ronon?"_

_Carson licked his lips, hesitating before answering. "They had to go offworld. They will return shortly, it won't take long."_

"_You are wise to continue base operations as normal."_

_There was a long silence between them, a comfortable silence where, though nothing was said, much was imparted. When at last Beckett broke the silence, telling Gwen he would return to see her soon, to check on how she was doing, the girl turned her head to peer up at the ceiling. "I still have my senses, Doctor. By tomorrow, I will start to lose them. After that, I do not think we would be able to speak much. Pain and death can make one mad." She turned to look at him once more, "Also, if you open the door, I will kill you and all by you, so you could not do this to me again."_

_Carson had only been able to nod before he rose and left._

"She's dying, Elizabeth," Carson managed to answer, looking up at his commanding officer. "What more do you need to know? She's dying, and dying very fast, very painfully, and very alone."

Weir swallowed, "I had to send John and his team, and you know that."

"You could have at least let Rodney stay! Without his help-"

"Carson! He is the only one familiar with the device the Rathites use to conceal themselves. I couldn't send anyone else; no one else has that knowledge, nor do they trust anyone else but him to touch it."

"And without Rodney I've been put behind! He was invaluable in deciphering nad helping me understand how they put Gwen together! Radek, with all his skill, is not Rodney!"

"Carson, they will be bac-"

"I don't care when they'll be back, Elizabeth! The point is I am behind and that girl is dying! That…that child is going to die because you took the one person who was keeping the process going at a reasonable and steady rate!"

"Carson," Elizabeth said, feeling deflated and small. "I'm sorry…but we cannot stop everything for one person. There are more important things we must do-"

"You'd stop everything if it was for John. Or Teyla. Or Rodney, Radek, me. We'd drop everything if it was for you, and if not drop everything, but work around everything else. What makes Gwen so different? She wasn't from Earth? She's an alien being?"

"That's not fair, Carson, and you know it. You are being unreasonable."

"She's dying, Elizabeth, and there's nothing I can do about it. I need Rodney. I need him and Radek to argue and go over the data and help me cure her, save her. Too many people have died, too many."

Elizabeth bowed her head, "Carson…saving her won't bring any of them back. You have nothing you need to atone for. It's a different set of rules out here, and unfortunately, according to those rules people die. You can't save everyone."

"Aye, but I know I can save her, and she'll be one less person to die because of my failure. All I need if Rodney. All we're meeting with now, Elizabeth, is failure. The process is not going well. Rodney has this unique ability to read between the lines, to see what they were saying by not saying anything."

Elizabeth swallowed, biting on her lip. "I'm sorry, Carson, but you'll have to try without him. I need him there; I need him to repair that machine. If I pull him out and Gwen is saved, I risk our relations with Rathos. They can give us food, shelter…Gwen can't. I'm sorry…the best I can do is order for him to return as soon as he's done and let the others remain."

Carson nodded grudgingly. It wasn't fair, but it was what needed to be done and he was neither showing her respect or being fair to her by arguing against her decisions and making her feel any more guilty about it than she already felt. He knew it hadn't been an easy decision in the beginning, he knew she'd already argued with Sheppard, and he knew he wasn't making things any easier.

"Aye…as soon as he's done then. Until then, we'll do our best. I'm sorry, lass, that wasn't fair to you. We'll figure it out, without Rodney…then I can rub it in his face."

Weir smiled a little, as did Carson and, after a moment, they burst out laughing. It wasn't because the comment was funny, it was more just to let out all that was built up inside. They laughed for a good five minutes before getting a hold of themselves. Carson patted Weir on the shoulder and headed back to the lab while Elizabeth walked up to the control room to send Rodney and John their new orders. Things seemed dark and dim now, but, as experience in Pegasus had taught Weir, it was when the city and it's people were at it's darkest that they pulled up to shine. It only stood to reason that Carson would make the hormone, with or without Rodney. It also stood to reason, by the time this was all over, they would have a new member of the expedition.

"She'll need a surname then," Elizabeth mused as she walked up the stairs to the control room. "I suppose we can put a box out for that one as well."

* * *

New chapter, chapter 11, whoo-hoo. I must say things look bleak, do they not? I have no witty things to say except that the next two chapters have been in my head for quite some time and am looking forward to writing them. I hope you all have been enjoying the ride because it isn't yet over. Thank you to all my reviewers and, to quell any fears, I will see this story to completion. It would just be cruel now to stop and leave you, and Gwen, hanging. So, chapter 12 will be up when it is up, followed by chapter 13. It may take awhile, but never fear, they will be posted when compelted. Until then, I give you chapter 11!


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